Magic's Price
by Snapegirlkmf
Summary: Zelena's sacrifice of Neal cheated the dark gods of their due, and now their vengeance will fall upon all in Storybrooke, destroying everything. Unless Emma, Belle, Regina, and Rumple can restore the Balance and Neal before it's too late. AU of Quiet Minds. Rated M for violence. Swanfire & Rumbelle.
1. Suspended Animation

**Magic's Price**

**AU Quiet Minds 3:15**

**Snapegirlkmf**

**1**

**Suspended Animation**

"Neal!" Emma screamed in horror as the man she loved crumpled to the ground at her feet like a marionette who'd had his strings cut. "Neal, what the hell? What's wrong with you?"

She went to her knees, cradling him in her arms. He was pale as a ghost and his breath was raspy and uneven. "Gold!" she screamed at Rumple, who was staring, frozen, at his son and Emma upon the ground in front of him. "What's wrong with him?"

"It's . . . magic's price, Emma," Gold replied heavily.

"Magic's price? For what?" Emma cried, hugging Neal tightly.

"For . . . for bringing him back," Neal rasped. "But . . . I didn't know . . . Emma . . . it's too late for me . . . I'm dying . . . tell Henry . . . I love him and I'm sorry . . . I never got to be a father to him, like I wanted . . ."

"No . . . Neal, you're going to be okay . . ." Emma whispered, fear and grief clogging her throat. "You can't leave me, dammit! Not again."

"I'm sorry . . . but the magic . . . requires a sacrifice . . ." Neal shuddered as the poisonous black enchantment flowed through him, stealing away his life. "You have to let me go, Emma . . ."

"No!" she howled. "I lost you once. I refuse to do it again!"

"Bae, no . . ." Gold finally snapped out of the shocked trance he was in. "This doesn't have to be . . . Zelena sacrificed you . . .she broke the rules . . ."

Neal's eyes blinked and he focused upon his father, who was kneeling beside him now, clasping his hand. "Papa . . . I understand now . . . you showed me how to sacrifice myself for my family . . ."

"No, Bae. Not like this!" Gold shook his head frantically. "This is wrong. No child should die before their parent . . . for any reason . . . I can fix this . . ."

"Papa . . . just let me go . . . save Henry and protect Emma from her . . . please . . ." Neal felt himself spasm as the dark enchantment began to shut down his organs. He felt an icy cold chill creep through him and he knew soon enough he wouldn't feel anything at all . . .

"I will _not_!" Rumple hissed. "This . . . is not going to happen! She cheated . . . she broke the rules and by all I am and all the power I wield, she shall pay the price for it! Not you, Bae! Not you!"

"Gold, _do_ something!" Emma sobbed. "We're losing him!"

"Emma, kiss him!_Now!_" Gold barked. "Before the last breath leaves his body!"

Emma bent and her lips met Neal's icy cold ones. But she ignored the spectral chill and kissed him with everything she had within her. She felt True Love's magic take hold, preventing the deadly enchantment from taking her beloved away.

Meanwhile, Rumple was fighting to remain calm enough to cast a certain spell before the one who controlled him discovered what he was doing. He closed his eyes and concentrated.

His own magic rose within him and covered his son in a fine golden mist. Then he sagged back on his heels. "There! Emma, it's done!"

Emma drew back from Neal, who was still pale as death, but his chest still rose and fell, though very shallowly. "I don't understand. Gold, why isn't he waking up?"

"Because, Emma, we've only temporarily staved off his death," Gold explained softly. "I've suspended it for a time. Until we can get Zelena to pay magic's price for breaking the ancient laws."

"The ancient laws? What do you mean?" Emma sputtered.

"The ancient laws that brought the first Dark One into being," Rumple answered. "Look, I can't explain now. She's coming, I can feel her." he shivered, for as the dagger holder, Zelena had a creepy symbiosis with him, and he could feel her through the dark bond of holder and Dark One. Or mistress and slave, he thought bitterly. "Go, take Neal . . . no . . . wait!" He gestured sharply, and Neal vanished.

"Gold, where is he?" gasped Emma, her blue eyes still shimmering with tears.

"I've sent him somewhere safe for the time being. She mustn't get her hands on him, Emma. He's in my shop basement. Tell Belle . . . what's happened. Warn you parents about Zelena. She is a dark witch of the first order, a powerful enchantress. But this time she's made a mistake. She's trafficked in things she cannot control, and has brought peril to us all."

"Gold, what are you talking about? What peril?"

"The wrath of the gods of night and shadow. Go, Emma! She mustn't find you here! Tell Belle to look in the safe, to find the Booke of Night With Moon, it'll explain what I can't."

"Gold, can't you just . . . magic yourself away?" Emma asked, concerned.

He smiled sadly at her. "It doesn't work like that, dearie. The one who holds the dagger commands the Dark One. And through it she can summon me whenever she wishes. Right now, I'm a liability. But you can defeat her with my Cuff of Nullification. Put it on her and she's an ordinary mortal, unable to access her magic. At least my father did one useful thing in his miserable existence. You'll find it in my shop. Hurry, Emma!"

Emma rose and whispered, "Don't lose hope. We'll get you away from her, Gold."

"In order to do that you'll need to get the dagger from her," he said bluntly.

"We will. Just . . . hang in there, okay?" Emma said. Then she did something she had never done before. She hugged the older man hard. Then she turned and raced off into the trees.

No sooner had the echo of her boots faded then a tall woman with reddish hair wearing a black dress that buttoned all the way up to her neck with a huge emerald cabochon on a chain about her neck strode into view.

"Well, well, Rumple!" she cooed, her voice sending shards of ice through him. "You naughty imp, trying to escape! Did you really think that was possible?" She tisked at him.

"I think a lot of things are possible, Zelena," he hissed, trying not to bow his head before her despite her mental urging in his head. "Including me killing you for what you've done!"

She laughed mockingly. "You can't hurt me, Rumple!" She waved the dagger tauntingly before his nose before making it vanish up her sleeve. "I'm the mistress here now! Go back to your cell, Rumple! Go back and spin! Maybe it'll soothe the madness in your head! Because I need your brain, Dark One!"

"Whatever knowledge you hope to gain shall never be yours," he growled.

"Wrong! I always get what I want, Rumple! Because wicked always wins!" And she laughed, the sound like fingernails down a chalkboard.

Rumple felt himself cringe, forced into subservience by the dagger's magic. "You know, Zelena, someone else used to crow about never failing once. Want to know where he is? In hell, spending eternity being tortured in payment for his arrogance by the dark Powers! Right next to your mother! And someday, little witch, you'll join them!"

"Shut up, Rumple! Back to your cell!" she growled.

The compulsion took hold of him, and he shuffled back to the basement where she had been holding him since casting the curse that returned them all to Storybrooke. He sat down at the wheel and began to spin, feeling himself start to slip back into that twilight state. The madness beckoned.

He watched the wheel spin round and round, twinkling motes of gold glinting through his fingers. _Oh, Bae. I'll set this right. I promise. _But even as he thought it, despair crept up on him like a black beast and pounced, sinking its phantom talons into his psyche.

And tears trickled down his cheeks as the wheel whirred.


	2. An Unquiet Mind

**2**

**An Unquiet Mind**

_A year previous_

_The Enchanted Forest, Fairy Tale Land:_

Though she still felt numb and her heart was shattered inside, Belle managed to focus on one thing as they traveled to the Queen's castle. The fact that Rumple might not be dead. After all, he had died as the Dark One, and the Dark One was immortal unless someone killed him and took the power of the dagger. And since Rumple's death had been his own sacrifice, perhaps . . . just perhaps . . . there was a chance he could come back again. Necromancy was the forbidden art, even among the dark magic wielders, but surely this was not a true death?

Shivering slightly, she turned to the one other person who mourned Rumple truly, his son Neal, or Bae, as she had started to think of him since it was his true name, and murmured, "You know, I don't think he's really dead. I mean, we never saw his knife."

Bae looked startled. "You don't? But Belle, we saw him die . . ."

"I know, but if he's truly gone, where's the dagger? It's missing. We need it to see if his name is erased from it," she pointed out. "And if not . . . there's a chance we could get him back."

"Get him back?" Bae sputtered. "Belle, you're talking about raising the dead. Even I know that's forbidden!"

"Not if the person didn't really die," Belle answered. "And I don't believe he did, Bae. I really don't."

"You're grieving. You're grasping at straws," he began gently.

"No. I know it might seem that way, but . . . I have a feeling that he's still cursed and if so, he can't die until someone kills him with the dagger or someone breaks its power. And neither of those things happened, so . . ."

"Okay, let's just say he's not really dead," Bae mused, a flicker of hope burning in him. "Then where the hell's the dagger?"

"I wish I knew," Belle muttered. Because that was the question of the hour. And it was one she had no answer to.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

_A day later:_

Baelfire was rather ticked off at the moment. He had suggested to Charming that they stop off at the Dark Castle, because he wanted to check there and see if the dagger had somehow appeared there, because it seemed a logical thing to assume, and the more he thought about it, the more he felt Belle was right in her theory. And if she was, and his father could be brought back from limbo or whatever you called it, then Rumple could help him find a way back to Emma and Henry.

He couldn't believe after all they been through that the Charmings were just going to . . . let them go. That they were going to trust Regina, who had done more to screw up their family and wreck their lives than anyone, and just say, okay they're gone and that's that. Well it wasn't for him. If there was one thing Bae had learned from Rumple was that there was _always_ a way to do what people said was impossible. His father had done it by creating the Dark Curse. Baelfire resolved he could do it too, because why shouldn't he? What had happened occurred because of Pan's vengeful nasty ways and Regina's carelessness in leaving a curse out for all to see in her crypt, like it was a list of things to do. When Bae had found that out he'd wanted to hit himself in the forehead. That was a dumbass move that an apprentice would have made, not a supposedly full-fledged mistress of the dark arts! Rumple had never left any of his important or deadly magical items just lying around, and not just because he'd had a child in his castle either! It was because his father was careful and a bit paranoid.

But Regina had grown careless and now this was the result.

It irked him that David was so willing to just say he should leave her be that it was for the best. It had taken all his self-control not to sneer in the other man's face—_really, dearie? Best for whom? You really want to let them just forget we ever existed? What magic did, magic can undo. That's a truth as old as the beginning of this world. And I'm not going to give up my family on Regina's say so! It was her fault Pan re-cast the curse, and if she wants to play martyr, fine and dandy, but I'm going to get my son and Emma back, come hell or high water. And you can either help me or get the hell out of the way, Your Highness!_

He knew that Belle had the same determination as he did, and she could help him, for she was not just an empty-headed beauty, she was intelligent beyond words, his father had said so many times, and Rumple was no dumb bunny himself. Bae smiled sardonically. There was an old saying—_if you want something done, go do it yourself._ And that's what he was going to do.

He was tired of following along at Charming's heels, like a good little lapdog. Charming wasn't his prince, he'd not sworn fealty to him, and he didn't have to accept the man's choices either. Or his leadership. But right now there was safety in numbers. So he'd wait till they got closer to the Dark Castle before splitting away from the main company. None of them cared about Rumple's sacrifice anyhow, they were all too concerned about getting to the Queen's former residence and starting over. Well, Bae wasn't starting over without Emma and Henry.

He sidled closer to Belle and murmured, "Hey, Belle. What do you say if, in a day or two, we blow this popsicle stand?"

Belle frowned. "We what? What's a popsicle stand?"

"Err . . . that's right, you wouldn't know. It's an expression, it means let's get the hell out of here and do what we want to do. I don't trust Regina and I don't trust anyone who just follows blindly after her. Besides, we've got our own agenda, right? We've got to get my father back, and after that I've got to find a way back to Emma and Henry, because no way am I losing them all over again. Twice was enough!"

Belle stared into his eyes and thought that never had Baelfire reminded her more of Rumple than at that moment. For here was a man willing to walk through the gates of hell for his family. She laid a hand on his arm. "Okay. When do we leave?"

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Belle and Baelfire reached the Dark Castle late in the afternoon the next day. They had bid goodbye to everyone the next morning, after being joined by Robin and his band of Merry Men. Now Bae felt comfortable enough to leave knowing the main party was in good hands with the outlaw and his men, who were superb trackers, archers, and survivalists. They didn't need him and Belle, and they had more important things to do, especially after learning that Regina's castle was being occupied by a witch.

Bae knew better than to get involved between feuds with magic users. Inevitably, there was collateral damaged and he'd rather not risk getting barbecued when he needed to stay whole and healthy. Besides, this witch was probably an old enemy of Regina's, and he'd had enough of old enemies. The Dark Castle was where he needed to be right now.

It had started to snow lightly as they made their way up through the courtyard with the old fountain and Belle spoke the password to unlock the doors and go inside. It was several degrees warmer in here, though until they got a fire going, it wouldn't be feasible to search for anything yet.

She spoke another word and the lights came on, so at least they could see where they were going.

Beside her, Bae stamped his boots and shook off the snow from his cloak. "It's colder than a witch's heart in here," he muttered. "Let me get a fire going." He moved over to the large fireplace in the great room, taking some flint and steel from his belt pouch.

While he tried to coax a blaze from the dry tinder on the hearth, Belle moved over to the spinning wheel still resting in front of the fire and put her hand on it. How many times had she seen Rumple sit here, spinning straw into gold? She could hear the familiar creaks and squeaks the wheel made as it turned, and see his slender hands feeding the straw into it, and suddenly tears were flowing down her face.

She covered her mouth with her hand to muffle a sob.

Suddenly arms came around her and held her.

"Hey. It's gonna be okay. We'll get him back, Belle," Bae soothed, hugging her.

But even as he spoke those hopeful words, grief rose and ambushed him as well, and he hugged the woman who might have been his stepmother had he never gone through that portal and together they cried for the loss of the one man who they had loved and who was now lost to them. Somehow it seemed fitting that their journey begin with tears, though hopefully it wouldn't end that way.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The next day, after breakfast, Belle and Bae canvassed the castle, searching high and low for the dagger, but finding it nowhere. They ended up in the library after some more fruitless searching, and Bae stared in awe at all the books. "Whoa! It's like the New York Public Library in here. When did this get here? I don't remember it being here when I was here."

"That's because your father built it for me," Belle explained. "As a gift. It was then that I started to see the good man beneath the curse . . . and started to fall in love with him as well."

Bae sighed. "Yeah, I guess that's the thing I had trouble with. Believing that good man was still there somehow. I kind of lost my perspective after I fell through the portal and all. All I had was my anger at the way things turned out. I never really gave him a chance to talk with me, I behaved like an idiot, I let my anger dictate my actions, and that was wrong. In a way, I behaved like my mother, and that's not who I ever want to be like."

This was the first time Belle had ever heard him speak of his mother, and she said, "So you don't . . . blame him for what he did then?"

"For what? Causing her death? Belle, I barely knew the bitch. She abandoned me when I was four to run off with Hook. Hook told me before he sold me out to the Lost Boys about her death. I think he was hoping to get me to hate my father by doing so, but he forgets what she did to me . . . and if you think I was mad when my papa let me go through that portal, I'm twice as angry with her for deliberately skiving off like that. Matter of fact, she's why I was so angry with Papa, because it felt like twice I was abandoned by both my parents. And I don't care what excuse she had for doing so, the fact is she chose another man and her own damn pleasure over me and my father, who busted his ass to give her and me whatever he could. I might not remember much about those days, but dammit I remember who was there for me and who wasn't. Killian tried to make excuses for her, but I never bought them. And Papa told me on the Jolly Roger after we saved Henry about that day, and how he was never intending to kill her, he did it because he lost control after she kept making excuses to him about why she left me, and choosing a man like Hook over me, which, to him, was unforgivable. He snapped and well, he was a dark sorcerer, and you don't screw with him like that. I can't even say honestly I'm sad she died, because she was dead to me the day she walked out on me. Dead and gone, and she reaped what she sowed. I think the only one she ever loved was Killian."

"I think maybe you're right. And how do you feel about Hook?"

"Honestly? I looked up to him once, when I was a kid, until he sold me out. Now I just want him to get the hell away from me and my family. I know he thinks he has a thing for Emma, and I can't say I blame him, because she's a beautiful woman, and she's a wonderful person, better than me, but she's not for him, and I'll be damned if I'm going to stand there and watch him steal her away from me, like he did to my mama. No offense to my papa either, I know he couldn't save her, because she never wanted to be saved in the first place."

Belle nodded. "Hook is not the most trustworthy of men. He tried to kill me at least three times, you know."

"Yeah, and that's another thing that pisses me off. He had no reason to go after you when it was Papa he had a problem with. Then again, it's lucky he was so inept at doing so, otherwise you wouldn't be here right now," Bae smiled at her.

"And it's a good thing I am, because otherwise you'd be stuck going through the library all by yourself."

Bae whistled. "Where do we start?"

"One shelf at a time," Belle said. Then she went and started scanning them. "You know, I always loved your father, Bae. Even when he was the Dark One. And I still love him that way. Even the dark part."

"But don't you want to break his curse?"

"Of course I do. But if we can't, I'll still love him, and try to keep him from making poor choices because of his cursed nature."

"He really loved you, Belle. I never realized how much until I heard him on the phone with you that day. It was that which made it possible for me to believe he really had changed, that the good man was still there despite the Dark One curse. Your love . . . made him remember who he really was."

"I know," Belle paused to wipe a tear from her eye. "Out of all three of the women in his life, I think I was the one who really loved him, just him, and not what he could do for me or give to me. And my heart broke into pieces when he . . .sacrificed himself that day."

"Then it didn't surprise you? That he did something like that?"

"No. Because it's the core of who he is, Bae. When he took on the curse of the Dark One, who'd he do it for? It wasn't for power, not for himself."

"No. It was for me . . . and to save all those kids thrown into a war we couldn't possibly win," Bae admitted heavily. "And I've always felt guilty for that. But like I said, it was easier to get mad at him for what happened than to understand why he did it, and know that he still loved me. Then again, I've always been a screwed up mess. Emma's the only one who really understood me. Like you and Papa."

"And we'll find a way to get you home to them, Bae." Belle said reassuringly. "Now, since we can't find the dagger right now, what do you say we look for a book about the Dark One curse? There has to be something here that explains how he came into being and how to resurrect him."

"Yeah, but how do we find it? This could take days . . . weeks . . ." Bae groaned.

"Let's get some more light in here," she suggested, going to the candelabra on the desk and lighting it with some matches she found upon the desk beside it.

As she lit the last candle on the candelabra, the flame suddenly whooshed to the ceiling and flickered and danced as if possessed. Belle drew back, sensing some magic was at work, and a face appeared in the fire, almost like what she imagined a demon or devil's face would look like when summoned. It was the face of an older man, with a pointed chin and a goatee.

"What—who are you?" she gasped.

"Allow me to introduce myself," the face said. "I am Lumiere!"

Bae frowned at the candelabra. "Who the hell are you? An enchanted candlestick holder? What was my papa going senile there?"

"I don't remember you being here," Belle began.

"I was cursed to this form by Rumplestiltskin himself," Lumiere began. "Because I broke a deal with him. And this was my punishment. Maybe you haven't seen me because I have been . . . underused. This castle is huge, and I lay forgotten for a long time, as I can only come out if my candles are lit."

Belle cocked her head at him. "I've cleaned and dusted this castle from turret to attic to storage room, and I've never come across this candelabra before. It's unique, I'd remember it if I did. You say Rumple cursed you like this? Why?"

"Ah . . . it's a long story, mademoiselle. Very boring. I was a wizard once, and I made a mistake . . . and that's why I'm like this," Lumiere sighed. "But I could not help overhearing . . . you are looking for a book on the Dark One?"

"Yes, but how would you know where one was?" Bae asked suspiciously.

"Because, you see, I've been in here lots of times when Rumplestiltskin was reading . . . and I've seen him use that particular book. Why do you need it?"

"To help us bring him back," Baelfire answered. "I need my father back to help me find my family."

"And you believe I would help you—the son of the man who put me here?" Lumiere scowled.

"Well, Rumple has changed since you knew him," Belle began. "And I'm certain if we asked him to, he would change you back now. Only we can't ask him anything unless you help us."

Lumiere considered. "Very well, if you convince him to release me after I help you, we have a deal."

"Done!" Belle agreed. "Now . . . where is this book we need?"

"Look behind you, on the top shelf," Lumiere instructed. "You shall see it . . . it's a book worthy of the Dark One."

Bae went and found what the candelabra meant. It was a thick tome of nightblue leather with fancy curlicues and engraved runes upon the binding and the cover. He shivered, for the volume was oddly chilly to the touch, as if he held ice in his palms. "Why is it cold?"

"Ah. It is the emanations from the spells inside. Cold as the grave!" Lumiere chuckled.

"But can I open it without getting blasted?" Bae queried, knowing well how dark mages guarded their precious spell books.

"Put on the gloves in the top right hand drawer and you shall see," Lumiere replied.

Bae did so, finding they fit him . . . well, like a glove. Then he opened the volume.

"Hells! I can't read it!" he snarled in frustration. "It's written in some other language!"

"Let me see," Belle said. But she found she too could not decipher it. "Damn it!"

"I know what you are looking for," Lumiere said. "Turn to page 394. You will find something there."

Bae flipped the pages until he came to the right one. And discovered there was a clever hiding spot within the book where there rested a strange metal object . . . almost like a brand . . . with an odd runic triangle and circle upon one end. "What's this?"

"It is a key!" Lumiere explained. "A key to the vault of the Dark One."

"What's that?" Belle asked.

"It is where the first Dark One was made, centuries upon centuries ago," Lumiere intoned. "He was a dark spirit, born out of the darkness of the wrath of the gods of night and shadow, summoned by a desperate soul who wished to kill a king and so gain a throne . . . and he made a deal with the ancient gods of darkness and black magic . . . and they sent him the dagger of the Dark One . . . along with the rules one had to follow in order to control and summon him from the ether."

"And to become one," Bae added.

"Yes. The vault holds the key to bringing back the Dark One . . . if you are brave enough to use it. Remember, all magic comes with a price," Lumiere warned.

"Of course it does. And I'm willing to pay any price," Bae began.

But Belle shook her head rapidly. "Don't ever say that. You don't ever make a deal, especially with the dark gods, unless you know exactly the price beforehand. Because then they could demand anything . . . like the life of your firstborn child."

"You're right. I'm forgetting everything Papa ever taught me," Bae sighed. "Do you know the price, Lumiere?"

"Regrettably, no. Since your father was the Dark One, there was never any need for him to research that particular thing in my sight."

Belle groaned. Now they were back to square one, it seemed. And yet . . . there was something fishy here. She didn't know why, but something seemed off. "Lumiere, do you know what would happen if . . . if the current Dark One . . . died? Where would his body go? Where would the dagger go?"

"Ah . . . his body would be returned to the ether, as would his spirit, to await the summoning again . . . inside the vault. He cannot truly be killed, except by his dagger and then the spirit and the curse is transferred to whoever does the deed."

"Then he couldn't . . . kill himself?" Belle probed.

"No. No. Then the curse would just recircle. It was a provision made by the dark gods, so they could not lose their servant to madness and despair. Quite cruel, actually. But then, we are dealing with the gods of night and shadow here."

"So you're saying the Dark One can't go mad?" Bae asked.

"Oh he can . . . and many have. It takes a fine line to walk the edge between sanity and madness," Lumiere chuckled. "I'm surprised Rumplestiltskin lasted as long as he has."

"True love," Bae said. "What about the knife? Where would it be?"

"Well . . . it could be in the vault," Lumiere speculated.

"Or? Where else?"

"Well . . . the dagger is an object of great evil and power . . . and it would want to be used by another like it . . . so it's possible that it sent itself to the closest and strongest practitioner of darkness it could find."

Belle's eyes widened. "Bae, come here for a moment!" She pulled Bae away from the book and dragged him into a far corner of the library. "I think I know who has the dagger! It's that witch . . . the one who's taken over Regina's castle!"

"Yes . . . it would make sense that she's a dark witch," Bae nodded. "Good call, Belle."

"Question is, how do we get the dagger from her? We can't leave it with her. I won't have Rumple be made a slave to her. I'd rather see him in limbo than that."

"Me too. And we need the dagger back before we go to the vault," Bae said. He patted the key, which he stuck in a tunic pocket. "Maybe we can ask Lumiere how to get inside a warded castle?"

"Just be careful, Bae. I don't trust him," Belle murmured.

"Why?"

"I don't know, but my instincts are telling me there's something he's hiding from us . . . and his story about being in the castle . . . I feel like he's lying, Bae. It could be a trap. Your father had many enemies."

"Hmm . . . yeah he feels kind of shady to me too. But let's see what I can get out of him."

Bae went and approached Lumiere again, and the trapped wizard told him a simple spell he could recite to make himself invisible to the spell ward around the witch's castle. Bae didn't like using magic at all, but Lumiere assured him the spell was not dark magic, and so easy a baby could perform it. "Just read it off the scroll in the top right hand drawer."

"Okay," Bae said, and then went to get it. Once he had the scroll, he said to Belle, "I'll need the night to prepare and then I'm going back to the Queen's castle and getting the knife."

"How are you going to do that?" Belle cried.

"Well, I'll use the scroll to get inside and then . . . I'll do something I'm really good at. I learned when I was kid how to steal in order to survive, and I was damn good at it. So I'll find where this witch keeps the dagger and I'll steal it back from her. Meantime, you try and translate this page where we found the key, and hope it tells us about the price required."

"Bae, are you sure that's wise?"

"Yes. I'm the only one who can get the knife, and you can translate better than I can," he persuaded. "Don't sweat it, I'll be back before you know it."

"Okay. But Bae, I don't like this. But what choice do we have?"

"I know. We're two desperate souls, aren't we?" and Rumple's son smiled sadly at her. "Just like my father was once. But we'll do this. I won't fail my family."

Belle hugged him. "You just be careful. You die from being stupid, Baelfire, and I'll send your papa to the afterlife to kick your ass."

He laughed. "I'm not dying, Belle. I can promise you that."

But she was still uneasy.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_Present day_

_Storybrooke_

_The farmhouse basement:_

"Eat, damn you!" Zelena spat at Rumple, shoving the bowl of bland rice inbetween the gap in the bottom of the cage.

Rumple just kept spinning, ignoring her.

"Why won't you eat?" hissed the witch exasperatedly.

Rumple paused then said bitterly, "You can ask that, when you've killed my son?"

"He was a fool . . . you shouldn't waste time mourning him," Zelena said callously.

"I'm not hungry, dearie. Death makes me lose my appetite."

"I don't care. I won't have you weak for what I need you for!" she growled. "Now eat! Before I shove it down your throat!"

This time she put the command of the dagger behind it, and Rumple was dragged away from the wheel which helped him forget how his son was lost to him for now, and forced to pick up the bowl and start eating with his fingers.

He felt like throwing up, but wasn't allowed to stop eating. "Mmm! Tastes like chicken!" he mocked both himself and her while sucking bits of rice off his fingers slowly. Then he began singing in a whiny half-mad voice, "Feed the madness and it feeds on you! Feed the madness and it feeds on you!" He let out a little giggle at the end, because it helped ease the misery a bit.

"Shut up! I don't want to hear your crazy babble!" she snapped. "Slow down, before you choke."

Rumple slowed down. Then, because he couldn't speak, he began giggling, the same high pitched giggles he used to make as the Dark One. The giggling helped recall him to himself and it was also a means to annoy Zelena, whom he could tell was getting mighty uncomfortable listening to him cackle.

He began giggling twice as fast and as loud.

"What the hell is so funny!" Zelena cried. "Why are you laughing?"

He just giggled harder.

Zelena grew red in the face or something like it, though it was hard to tell with her green skin. "Answer me!"

"Laughter is the best medicine, dearie! You ought to try it!" Rumple replied, giggling hysterically. "See? I feel better already. All the voices in my head . . . will be quiet when I'm . . . dead?"

Then he started laughing hysterically.

Zelena scowled. "You've gone mad."

"And why is that, dearie? Could it be . . . because you sacrificed my son to get me back? You made him pay the price that should have been yours?" Rumple hissed, his eyes suddenly maniacal.

"A sacrifice was required," she said off-handedly. "And he was a thief who tried to steal the dagger and I caught him. I chose to punish him that way." She tisked at him. "You were such a terrible papa, Rumple. Never teaching your son not to steal things."

Rumple stiffened. "And you're an awful daughter, trapping your own father in a candelabra like that."

Zelena sneered. "He was of no more use to me. I'd learned all I could from him, he was a sorry excuse for a wizard. That's why I came to you. Only you wouldn't teach me how to become immortal!"

"There are some things, dearie, you weren't meant to know, and that's one of them," he said shortly.

She glared at him. "I don't need you for that anymore, Rumple! I know how to do it now! I found out when I was in Oz. It takes three things—the brain of a sorcerer, the courage of a brave warrior, and the heart of an innocent newly born. I've already got Charming's courage and your mind, since I broke it when I sacrificed your son. Now all I need is the heart of Snow White's baby and I'll have it all!" She gave a small diabolical laugh.

"You'll never get it. They're wise to you now," Rumple warned.

"Yes I will! My half-sister and those other idiots are no match for me. I'm Wicked, and Wicked always wins, Rumple!"

"Your arrogance will be your undoing, dearie. In fact, it already has been."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean . . . you tried to cheat the dark gods of their due, Zelena." He gripped the bars of his cage and glared at her with reddened eyes. "The ancient laws state—in order to bring back the Dark One you need a _willing_ sacrifice. And my son wasn't willing—you forced him to use the key to open the vault! You broke the rules . . . and the gods of night and shadow shall make you pay!"

"It never said a willing sacrifice!" Zelena blustered.

"Then maybe you should have read the fine print!" he hissed. "I know everything about my rebirth! And the dark gods shall have their vengeance . . . one way or another!"

"You're insane!" Zelena laughed. "You don't know anything! I've won . . . and I'll keep on winning!" Irritated, she pointed to the ground, lined with newspapers. "On your knees before me, slave! And from now on . . . you shall address me as mistress!"

Rumple obeyed, getting on his knees. He knew better than to fight the compulsion, but it crushed him to do so. "Yes, Mistress . . ." he rasped.

"That's better!" she cooed, and then she reached through the bars and patted him on the head the way one would a lapdog. "Now finish your supper and then go back to your spinning or whatever."

Rumple gritted his teeth, then went to do as she had said. Zelena smirked, then left the basement.

Rumple was compelled to finish the bowl of rice, but five minutes afterwards his stomach rebelled, and he crawled into a corner and was sick all over the floor. Misery and food did not mix.

Finally he managed to drink some water from a tin cup she had left him, then he curled up on his pallet, clutching his stomach. Besides the fact that he was grieving for his son, who had been cursed because of him, and whom he might not be able to restore, he also could feel the looming presence of the gods of night and shadow, hovering over Storybrooke. And they were furious . . . and he knew their wrath if unleashed would be like Armageddon.

Unless Emma could get back his dagger and stop Zelena, they would all die horribly. For the gods of night and shadow would not be mocked and you crossed them at your own peril. Pity Zelena had never learned that.

Groaning, he drew his knees up to his chest and tried to think calming thoughts to ease the churning in his gut. But all that kept coming to mind was images of Bae—as a baby and a small boy—and they made him weep.

**A/N: Hope you liked my twists with Bae and Zelena! I figured why not let him use his skills as a thief and as for Zelena, why not make her related to someone other than Snow?**


	3. Trickery

**3**

**Trickery**

**_A/N: Thanks everyone! I'm shocked at the response this has gotten and hope you like this new chapter. _**

_Fairy Tale Land_

_1 year previous_

_The Dark Castle library:_

Belle continued reading and translating the ancient text deep into the night and the next morning, pausing only to drink some tea she had made, which had now grown cold in the cup at her elbow, and use the facilities. Lumiere offered tidbits of information every now and then, shining his light down upon the pages.

Belle used all of her considerable skills at researching and her knowledge of ancient languages to translate the book, thanking the gods of light that she had Rumple's books with their translation keys at her fingertips. She assumed he must have gotten the knowledge from the previous Dark One incarnations, but had decided to procure some texts as well.

She finally had a breakthrough after several hours, figuring out a key phrase and word combination, which suddenly unlocked whole sentences of text for her. "I did it!" she told Lumiere excitedly.

"Congratulations, mademoiselle!" Lumiere said, grinning. "And what does it say?"

Belle bent over the text. "It says . . ._according to the ancient laws, set forth by the gods of night and shadow, a rebirth or recalling of the Dark One's spirit is only possible if there is a life involved. However, this is not a mere exchange of lives, it is a specific life price, ergo—a willing sacrifice of an individual who knows the price required must be given . . . or else the dark gods shall regard the rebirth as tainted . . . and bring their wrath down upon all . . ."_

Belle looked up from the page, her mouth falling open. "But that means . . . we would need to find someone willing to give up his life to bring Rumple back . . ."

"Aye, 'tis a hard choice, is it not? The dark gods are cruel indeed." Lumiere murmured.

Belle despaired then. For she knew this was an impossible choice. She would be willing to do it, but she knew Bae would never allow it, for he believed that she and Rumple belonged together and should eventually get a chance to be happy together, if the fates were kind. And she would never allow Bae to give up his life either, because he deserved to have a life with Emma and Henry, provided he could find them and make them remember again.

"More than cruel," she whispered. "Why that stipulation, Lumiere? In every other dark spell that requires a blood price, the dark practitioner sacrifices someone they've captured or some enemy or something. Yet here . . . they want a willing sacrifice. Why?"

"Perhaps for the same reason they insist that the one who becomes the incarnation of the Dark One be willing . . . because they wish a true servant of darkness. Or perhaps in creating such a powerful force for evil, that was a stipulation of the gods of Light. They are the gods of night and shadow, Belle, and their reasons remain their own. Who can say?"

Belle sighed. "But Rumple sacrificed himself for us all. Shouldn't that break the hold the dagger has on him?"

"It's hard to say . . . since there has never been a Dark One who has done it before . . . you would have to get the dagger and see what it looks like," Lumiere said quietly.

"I wish Bae would hurry back with it," Belle said, biting her lip nervously. "He's been gone for the whole morning and it's almost the afternoon now."

"Perhaps he is dodging pursuit, Belle. The witch and her servants, the flying monkeys, are very formidable." Lumiere remarked.

Belle stiffened at that comment. Narrowing her eyes, she said shortly, "And just what would _you_ know about this witch or her servants? We didn't even speak much about her around you, and if you've been shut here in the castle for all these years, how would you know anything about her?"

"Ahh . . . I have learned much when I watched Rumplestiltskin studying . . ."

"Don't lie to me! Who are you, really? And who sent you here? Because I don't believe your story any longer. I would recall you from before, as I said, I handled all the magical objects in Rumple's collection, and you weren't among them. And he would have never misplaced an enchanted object like you, I know him." Belle glared at the candelabra, suspicion written all over her features.

Lumiere gave her a pained look. "I'm afraid you have caught me out, Belle. I never was a good liar. It's how I ended up here. The truth is I was a wizard once. I came from another land, the land known as Oz. The first time I visited this realm, I was young and foolish, and I fell in love with a pretty girl named Cora, the miller's daughter. We were going to be married, and I was sure I had found my heart's desire . . . until I discovered that she wanted me to use my magic to win her a title, and a chance at gaining a throne of a kingdom that was failing, because the king was an old man with no living heirs. She was ambitious and greedy, and I had not seen it before, but I did then. I refused and we quarreled fiercely. She called off the wedding and I was going to leave to go back to Oz when she informed me she was carrying my child. I would have married her then, but again she refused me, telling me she wasn't going to tie herself to a milksop wizard without any ambition, and if I didn't stay around till the baby was born, she would abandon it in the woods for the beasts to eat. So of course I stayed until she bore a little girl, and then I took my child back to Oz with me. Her name was Zelena . . . and I loved her, but she . . . as she grew I began to see more and more of her mother in her . . . she was selfish and often cruel to people, she had inherited my magic, and though I tried to instruct her correctly in its use, she was always fascinated with the dark arts . . .and then she left home to study with one of the wicked witches of my homeland and when she returned, she was no longer the daughter I had known. She called herself the Wicked Witch of the West, and she demanded I tell her about her mother."

"And did you?"

"I did, and she was determined to meet her. I was just as determined to not have that happen. I didn't want her loose in another realm, causing who knows what havoc with her powers, because once she discovered her mother, she would want revenge upon her for abandoning her, and Zelena's idea of vengeance extends not just to one person, but all that they hold dear. So I refused to tell her the name of the realm her mother was in. Then she attacked me . . . and I could not fight my own daughter . . . and she cursed me into the candelabra, as you see. Then she went through my books and found one on planar travel and she also found a silly momento I had kept when Cora and I were dating . . . a tie tack pin of a golden heart and wrapped about it was a strand of her hair. Zelena used the hair to create a locator spell . . . and then she took me with her and traveled here, to this land . . . only to find that her mother was gone and all that remained was her half-sister, Regina, the Evil Queen."

"Your daughter . . . is Regina's half-sister?" Belle gasped.

"Yes. And since Cora was not there for her to wreak her vengeance on, Zelena determined it would be Regina who suffered in her stead. Only there was some kind of curse cast, and Regina and all the people in her palace and the Enchanted Forest disappeared . . . and Zelena was forced to wait. She eventually took over the Queen's castle . . . discovering some references to the Dark One, Regina's former tutor . . . and she tried to enter this castle . . . but the wards repelled her."

"Then how did you come here?"

"I'm getting to that. She had her spies, the flying monkeys, which incidentally were once people who crossed her transformed into that shape, save for the original one which was given to her as a familiar by her former mistress, the Wicked Witch of the East, keeping watch throughout the forest and when finally you and your party ended up back here, she tracked you with them . . . and discovered her sister was back . . . and she needed an ally against her . . .so she decided to summon the Dark One, after she found his dagger lying in the forest one day, only it didn't work . . . and that's when she overheard you and Baelfire discussing going to the Dark Castle, and she sent me here to spy . . . and to find out how to get the Dark One back."

"I knew it! I knew you weren't to be trusted!" Belle snarled.

Lumiere cowered away from her. "Yes, you were right . . . but I had no choice!"

"Now you do. You can choose to help me and maybe we can find a way to free you from your prison, or you can rot here after Bae comes back with the dagger. Well? Do we have a deal?"

Lumiere nodded. "I want you to know, I do not agree with what my daughter is doing. But she has always been . . . very quick to answer what she perceives as slights with her own brand of magical vengeance. And I have less control over her now than I did when she was a child."

"You aren't responsible for the choices she makes, Lumiere," Belle said, feeling sorry for the former wizard, now that she could see he was telling her the truth. "But I wonder . . . where's Bae?"

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_The Wicked Witch's palace:_

Bae snuck into the witch's palace after reading the scroll he'd obtained from Rumple's desk. He was dressed all in black, with special gloves on his hands that enabled him to "stick" to the walls, and he had strapped pitons onto his boots so her could scale walls easily, and also had a retractable nylon bungee cord with a steel grapple on one end. He was glad now he'd kept his old gear from when he used to be a cat burglar, or a second-story man, as they used to call it.

The gear proved extremely useful when scaling the palace walls and slipping in through an upstairs window. He then coiled the cord around his waist and took off the pitons, tucking them into a leather pouch at his belt.

Then he paused to look around. He was in a bedroom, with a huge queen sized bed with red and black bed hangings surrounding it, and a set of wooden steps to climb on it. The carpet was a thick red plush, red like blood . . . or the outside of an apple, he thought inanely. A large cherrywood armoire stood across from the bed, and next to it was a vanity with all kinds of pots of cosmetics and a brush, and a mirror hung over that.

_Mirror, mirror on the wall . . .I wonder if she preens in front of that mirror the way it was rumored the Evil Queen did?_ Bae snorted. Then he crept, silent as a cat over to the armoire, and peered inside. But both it and the vanity held nothing he was interested in, though he raised an eyebrow at the puce lace panties next to a black dress.

He examined a trunk, jimmying the lock in ten seconds, and looked inside, but though he found some magical paraphernalia, like black candles and a tiny ritual knife and a spellbook, there was no dagger.

He straightened, silently closing the trunk, and thinking to himself, _If I had the Dark One's dagger, where would I keep it?_

Acting on a hunch, he crept over to the bed and gently eased aside the bed hangings.

He expected to find the bed empty for it was just getting onto dusk, but to his shock it was occupied . . . by the witch herself.

She had hair the color of autumn leaves and skin the green of new ones, and she slept deeply. He thought her pretty, the way one admires a coral snake, and suspected she was just as deadly. He reached a gloved hand beneath the pillow, reasoning that most ladies slept with knives under their pillows, and lo and behold—his hand encountered something long and metallic.

He eased it out from beneath the sleeping witch by degrees, and then drew the bed hangings and turned to look at his prize. He recognized it immediately as the cursed dagger, as he'd seen it many times in his childhood. But as he peered at it, he noticed something odd . . . the letters that made up the name _Rumplestiltskin _were blurred and some were fading completely from the dagger.

Bae shook his head. He couldn't figure this out now. He had to leave. He shoved the dagger into his pouch and crept towards the window. It was then that the green flying monkey flew in through the window, saw him, and began screaming fit to wake the dead.

**Page~*~*~*~*Break**

_An hour later:_

Zelena dragged her captive through the forest, she had tied him up with his own rope after almost ripping the heart from his chest for trying to steal the Dark One's dagger. But she had stopped when her monkey, Allizander, recognized who he was—Rumplestiltskin's son—and then she'd searched him and found the strange key on him as well, a key which she recognized from one of her dark tomes as the key to the Vault of Shadows, which was the place where the original Dark One had been "born" out of primal shadow and the spirit of vengeance of the old gods.

She had read in one of the tomes in Regina's secret library that a sacrifice was required to summon back the Dark One if something other than the dagger happened to "kill" him. She had learned that in certain cases, the Dark One's corporeal form could be destroyed, but not his spirit, and it was that which waited in the Vault of Shadows.

"Where . . . are we going?" Bae panted, wincing as she dragged him along through the snowy woods.

"You'll see when we get there . . . Baelfire."

"My name's Neal, lady. Neal Cassidy."

"Liar," she sneered. "I know who you are . . . the son of the Dark One. And you're going to prove very useful to me," she purred evilly.

"Sure, lady. About as useful as tits on a bull," Bae replied cheekily.

Then he grunted as she used her magic to punch him in the face, bloodying his lip.

"Stow the smart comments! If I wanted a jester, I'd have sent for one!"

Bae staggered, then regained his balance and wiped his face with one arm. "Jeez, lady. You really need to get a life. And a sense of humor."

"Oh, I'll be getting a life soon enough," she cackled. "The Dark One's. And I'll be laughing when I do it."

Bae rolled his eyes. "You people. You all like to gloat before you actually do something. Kiss your own ass much, babe?"

Her next magical punch laid him out on the snow.

"Shut up! Before I rip out your tongue!"

Bae glared at her. "Aww! Did I hurt your feelings, Samantha? You really need to loosen up. And learn how to twitch your nose . . . like this," and he did a pretty good imitation of _Bewitched._

Zelena skewered him with her eyes. "I swear, if I didn't need you . . ."

"I know. I know. You'd rip out my heart. So unoriginal," Bae rolled his eyes as he climbed to his feet. It was good thing snow was freezing. That way she couldn't see him sweat. For despite his banter, he knew he was in serious trouble. And for the first time ever he wished he had magic like Rumple.

Soon they had reached the clearing where the vault was supposed to be, according to the old texts. Zelena used her compulsion spell to make Baelfire dig through the snow and uncover the hidden "doorway".

Then she removed the key from her pocket and snarled, "Now put this in the lock and turn it! Or else I'll flay you alive!"

Bae tried to fight the compulsion, but found it was impossible.

"Wait!" she shouted as he knelt down. "Take off your glove first!"

He tugged off the glove and set his hands about the odd key and shoved the end into the hole and pressed downwards.

There came an eerie grinding sound and the whole door began to run with rivulets of fire. He turned the key again and suddenly the fire shot upwards . . . and the key became a red hot brand which seared into his naked palm.

He screamed and fell over, clutching his hand.

His whole arm felt like it was on fire. He bit back another scream of agony as the "door" vanished and some kind of liquid clot of shadows emerged from the vault and arced upwards like a geyser.

"Dark One, I summon thee!" Zelena yelled, holding the dagger aloft like some green version of Lorena Bobbit.

Rumplestiltskin emerged from the shadows, called from the primordial ooze by the holder of the dagger, for the first time ever in his cursed existence.

"Who dares to summon me!" he hissed.

"My name is Zelena!" cackled the Wicked Witch. "And now you're mine to command!"

"How is this possible?" muttered Rumple, confused.

"Ask your son!" Zelena smirked, and indicated the stricken Bae.

Rumple's eyes grew wide in horror. "No! You stupid bitch, what have you done?"

"I've brought you out of the darkness . . . using your own son as my sacrifice!" crowed the witch. "So delightfully satisfying!"

"No! Bae! You're insane!" Rumple cried, and then he ran to gather his son up in his arms. "He didn't know the price! You've violated the rules!"

"The only rules here, Dark One . . . are _mine_." Zelena growled.

Rumple shook his head in denial. "It's going to be okay, son," he whispered, hugging Bae to him. Bae was already gasping and turning blue as the dark magic spread through him. "I can fix this. Don't be afraid. I'm here, Bae," he crooned, and then he did the only thing he could, he sent Bae into the shadowy limbo of the realm of shadows. There he would be preserved . . . for a time . . . until Rumple could wrest the dagger away from the hellspawned bitch.

He crouched like a cat when Bae vanished, and sprang at the smirking Zelena . . . only to be brought up short as she used the dagger to command him to freeze.

She came and shook a finger in his face.

"Tisk. Tisk. You ought to know better than that!" Then she sent him flying across the clearing to slam into a tree.

Dazed, he looked up at his new mistress . . . and saw Belle standing behind her, holding a candelabra in her hand, just within the trees, wearing a lovely purple wool dress and the cloak he had made for her one autumn evening.

He swallowed hard. _Oh, Belle! Run! Run from here, sweetheart!_ He shook his head once, twice, thrice, and then implored her with his eyes to leave.

He saw her mouth his name, her expressive blue eyes filled with tears.

Then she covered her mouth with a hand and backed away.

Just as Rumple crawled to his knees, his head spinning, and sneered, "That the best you can do, dearie?"

Thus distracted, Zelena never saw Belle turn ad run back the way she had come, Lumiere in hand.

The Wicked Witch raised the dagger and cooed, "Poor Rumple! Do you miss your baby boy?"

"Not as much as I'll miss filleting you, you chartreuse tart!"

She came up to him then, using the tip of the dagger to prick his throat. "I do believe you need to be taught a lesson, Dark One. Let's start with this . . ."

Suddenly he was transported out of the snowy woods and into an arena, where he was forced to watch Bae being killed, in a thousand horrific ways, over and over . . . while Zelena laughed in dreadful accompaniment to his son's screams . . .and his own as well . . .

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_Storybrooke_

_Present day:_

Belle was dusting the cabinet in Rumple's shop with the ruby slippers when Emma burst through the door, setting the shop bell jangling. "Emma! Is something wrong?"

"I'll say so!" panted the blond. "Look, remember when I said Gold was missing and I was going to go look for him with David?"

"Yes. Did you find him?"

"Yeah . . . and more . . ." she quickly explained what had gone on, from meeting up with Neal in the forest, to finding Gold going insane from hearing voices in his head and then Neal collapsing from the effects of some kind of killing curse and what Rumple had done.

"Bae is in the basement?" Belle cried.

"Yeah. And you need to find something called the Booke of Night With Moon. And he said that cuff he used on Pan's here too. Gold said it's in the safe and you'd know how to open it."

"I do," Belle said, and went to the wall and moved a portrait, revealing the safe and she quickly keyed in the password and all the locks undid themselves and she opened it and found a night blue book with silvery runes and moon phases on it inside. "Here it is. And the cuff too." She retrieved both items from the safe and locked it again.

"Well, you need to read it," Emma said. "Now where's the basement? I just need . . . to see if Neal's there before I go and warn my parents."

Belle indicated the door and they both went down.

There, among the clutter of several boxes, lay Neal, still as death.

"Oh God!" Belle cried, feeling her heart go cold as she stared at her stepson. "Emma, is he . . .?"

"He's not dead. Not yet anyway." Emma said, going over and gently caressing Neal's face. "I can still feel a trickle of breath. Gold said . . . he said he delayed his death until we can find a means of . . . restoring him. He said you could figure it out by reading that book. Somehow Zelena cheated the dark gods of their due by sacrificing Neal and she needs to be made to pay . . . or else we all will . . ."

Belle frowned. "That sounds catastrophic."

"Tell me about it," Emma sighed. Then she drew an old blue blanket over Neal's still form. "Look, I'll be back later. Can you lock this door? And the shop? It has protections on it, right?"

"Yes. Once I lock the door, they'll be activated," Belle answered. "Go, warn Snow and David, Emma. And make sure Henry's safe. I'll be reading. Hurry!"

"Right. I'll call you, Belle," Emma said, and then she raced up the steps.

Belle made sure the door to the basement was locked and so was the shop before she took the book into the back room and lay on the cot Rumple had put in there for those times when he worked too late to go home and just slept at the shop.

She found one of his suit jackets hanging on the chair and she dragged it on and then curled up on the cot and began to read, the scent of his aftershave surrounding her as she turned the pages.

_Oh, Rumple! You're a slave to that horrid bitch! But I'll free you and then you can restore Bae. Because you don't deserve to be under her thumb and she's going to rue the day she ever got hold of that dagger or my name's not Belle French!_


	4. Mind Games

**4**

**Mind Games**

_Storybrooke_

_Present day_

_A few hours previous to Neal's suspended death:_

Rumple was spinning again, because watching the wheel as he churned out gold helped him forget that Bae was trapped in limbo and he was a prisoner of Zelena, unable to choose his own fate. He had never done well imprisoned, that time he had allowed the Charmings to capture him had almost caused him to go mad. This time the horrible claustrophobic feeling combined with the soul-crushing guilt he felt that Bae had been sacrificed by the green wench to bring him back for some heinous purpose was quickly taking its toll on him.

Sometimes he hallucinated, seeing things like Belle cooking or Bae as a child playing, and hearing them talking to him. Other times he heard other voices, especially Zelena's and his father's, laughing and jeering in his head, calling him coward and worthless and whispering that he should have died as a baby and spared everyone the misery he brought them.

Spinning seemed to alleviate some of the madness, soothing him by its repetition and the sound the wheel made as it whirred around and around. It also served as a distraction from his awareness of his prison. The cage was just big enough for him to stand almost upright in and pace five steps back and forth. It contained a wheel, a pallet with a grimy sheet on it, which was crawling with vermin, and newspapers on the floor. She didn't even give him a bucket to relieve himself in, insisting he do his business on the floor . . . like an animal.

He detested it, but had no choice . . . all was as his new mistress willed. He didn't even know how long he'd been in the cage, time fluctuated in his half-mad state, and one day was almost like the next. Zelena came twice a day to feed him, replace the papers, and to taunt him since they had come to Storybrooke. He didn't know much of what had happened before then, it was all hazy. He did know he had been in this cage long enough to grow stubble and become filthy. But he couldn't do anything about that either, any use of his magic brought Zelena's wrath upon his head . . . and he didn't relish being beaten over and over, or made to watch Zelena torturing Bae and even Belle at times, for she could conjure first class illusions and she delighted in making him scream for her to stop, because even though a part of him knew they weren't real, the rest of him was compelled to believe them.

Spinning was the one activity he could do that eased some of the terrible tension and grief raging within him, and so he spun now, concentrating on the wheel.

Zelena had come at first light this morning and shaved him with his own dagger, treating it and him like some kind of prize sheep to be sheared. He detested her more each time he saw her, but feared that her own attraction to him was increasing. It made him ill to see it, but he couldn't help but notice the way her gaze lingered on him.

It made him feel even filthier than he already was.

He swallowed sharply against the nausea that threatened and kept on spinning.

Suddenly he heard a sharp creak and he jerked up, recognizing that sound as the cellar door opening.

He gritted his teeth. Zelena was back and he mentally steeled himself to deal with her as best he could.

But instead of the witch clomping down the stairs, he saw a green-furred winged monkey trotting towards him . . . and in the monkey's mouth was a key ring with two keys on it.

Rumple paused and rubbed his eyes, squinting hard to make sure he wasn't hallucinating again.

When the monkey remained and did not vanish, but instead trotted towards the cage, he knew it was real.

"Hey!" he called softly. "What are you doing here? Can I see those keys, furry imp?" He held out a hand for the keys.

But the monkey took the keys from its mouth and to his astonishment began to poke them into the lock on the cage door.

Rumple sat still and just watched as the monkey used its dexterous little paws to turn and wriggle the key back and forth until the lock popped open.

The monkey gave a little screech as the cage door swung open, as if to encourage Rumple to flee this stinking prison, then it turned and darted back up the stairs.

A stunned Rumple got to his feet, shoved the cage door open a little more, then crept through it.

He paused, trying to figure out if this were a new game of Zelena's to tease him . . . pretending he could escape . . ._don't fall for it, don't fall for it,_ he chanted over and over, even as he crept across the floor towards the stairs.

Any minute now he expected to hear her cruel laugh and the sharp tapping of her heels against the stone stairs as she appeared to "herd" him back inside his cell. But there was no sound save the faint moan of the wind.

Rumple snuck up the stairs, wary as a hunted rabbit, pausing every so often to listen for footsteps, and when he heard none above him, he continued on to the open cellar door.

He slipped through and for the first time in who knew how long, he was standing in the sunlight, in the fresh air, hearing the soft chirp of birds and feeling the wind on his face.

He almost sobbed aloud. He was free. He turned and pushed the door shut, putting the lock back into place but unable to bring himself to click it shut.

He had to leave before she came back.

He glanced around once more to make sure it wasn't a trap or a trick. Then he sprinted as quickly as he could into the forest. He had to run, run, run as fast as he could, he had to get away, to find help, to find Bae, to find Belle . . . and escape the wicked witch who entrapped him.

He raced through the trees, panting with fear, while mocking voices and laughter nipped at his heels like ravenous hounds, leaping over fallen logs and a small stream, searching for something he had lost long ago and could not find. He knew that Zelena had done something to him, broken something within his spirit, and his soul cringed in shameful agony, yet he ran on through the trees, a specter in a tattered suit covered with golden straw.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Emma and David were trotting through the trees, searching for any sign of Mr. Gold. Emma and Hook had found a farmhouse on the border of the forest of Storybrooke and gone to investigate it, finding it had been occupied recently but no one was at home. They had also discovered a padlocked cellar door, but had decided to wait for Regina before attempting to open it. When they had returned with Regina and David, they discovered the cellar door unlocked and had gone down to investigate, finding the cage with its door swinging back and forth, empty of all save a spinning wheel with straw beside it and a golden spool of thread still upon the distaff.

They had halted in shocked amazement, and Emma had whispered, "Will you look at that? Who do we know that can spin straw into gold?"

Seconds after, Hook murmured, "Rumplestiltskin."

And Regina smiled, knowing that somehow, despite its impossibility, her former teacher and friend was alive.

They had gone back to Gold's shop to inform Belle that Gold was alive, and somehow had been a prisoner of the witch, whom they figured had been living in the farmhouse. Belle had been shocked to learn of this, but before she'd had time to really process the information, Neal had appeared outside the shop, and collapsed through the door a moment later.

Neal had no memories of the previous year either, like all the residents of Storybrooke, and Emma, David, and Hook had taken him to the hospital after seeing a terrible brand upon his hand which he couldn't recall acquiring. It was in the shape of a triangle surrounded by a circle, and had blistered his palm terribly.

After speaking with Neal about the recast curse by the Wicked Witch and the fact that his father might have somehow been resurrected and was missing, and explaining to him that Henry no longer remembered anything or anyone, Emma had gone off with her father to see if they could track Gold down and learn who the witch was in Storybrooke.

Now Emma and David jogged steadily through the trees, peering about and trying to see if there were any signs a person had come this way. As they ran, they discussed the possible repercussions of Neal's return.

"It's complicated," Emma stated. "I have Henry to think about, it's not just about me anymore. I mean, a week ago it was me and him in New York, and I was playing video games and eating fruit roll-ups with my son and dating a guy I thought loved me and now I find out he was really a flying monkey, everyone's cursed again, and I'm trying to find the resurrected Dark One because he can tell me who the Wicked Witch of the West is and bring Henry's memories back. Toto, I'm sure not in Kansas anymore!"

Before David could respond to her quip an agonized howl, as of a soul in torment, echoed through the trees to their left.

Emma drew her gun and bolted into the oaks, following the tortured scream.

She came upon a barely recognizable figure, stopping dead in the middle of a small clearing to see Gold on his knees, his hand pressed to his head, eyes squinched shut, seemingly in agony. For a moment Emma feared he was having a stroke or something. She held out a hand and murmured, "Gold! Gold, are you all right?"

Trembling, Gold peered up at her. "No! No . . . not all right . . . I'm not all right . . ." his eyes were dark pools of suppressed horror. "I can't quiet the voices . . ." He dug the heel of his hand into his head as if trying to relieve a migraine.

"Gold, it's okay! We know you were held captive by the witch, can you tell us who she is?" Emma asked urgently.

"Yes, she's . . ." Gold began, then he clutched his head and cried, "There's no room . . . no room . . . too many voices . . . too many voices . . . all the voices in my head . . . can't quiet the voices . . ." he was nearly sobbing now, grinding his hands into his head and shaking as if in excruciating pain.

Before Emma could soothe him and try to get him to speak of the witch, a flying monkey soared down from the sky and attacked, trying to snatch Gold away, screeching in fury.

Gold cringed, recognizing this particular monkey as Zelena's special pet, Allizander. "No! Get away!" he howled.

David charged the monkey, waving his sword, trying to drive it off. "Emma! Get him out of here! I'll hold it off!"

"Gold, come on!" Emma called, and went to grab the sorcerer by the arm and help him up.

But Rumple was panicked, and the sight of Allizander, who had sometimes bit and scratched him while Zelena watched and smirked, was too much.

He surged to his feet and bolted away, running as if all the demons of hell were after him.

"Gold! Come back!" Emma shouted, and then she raced off after the sorcerer, but lost him as Rumple ran like a man possessed, outdistancing her among the trees and vanishing from view.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Panting, Emma soon realized she needed to quit running blindly and try and think of where Gold might go, the way she did when she was trying to locate someone who had jumped bail. Gold was frightened and in pain, she couldn't leave him out here like this, never mind that she needed to find out about the witch. Or the fact that Neal wanted him to restore Henry's memories. The sorcerer was hurt, the witch had done something to him, something that had made him crazy, and he needed help.

She turned, hearing some crackling in the underbrush. "Gold?"

"Emma!" A familiar figure burst into view.

"Neal? What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded. "You were supposed to rest!"

"You expect me to stay in bed while you're out here looking for my father?" he asked, coming up to her.

"Right, I forgot who I'm dealing with," she sighed.

"So, did you find him?"

"I just saw him a few minutes ago, but he took off on me. Neal, that witch did something to him . . . he seemed a little crazy, he was talking about hearing voices in his head, he acted like he was in a lot of pain . . . I don't like it," Emma said worriedly. "He tried to tell us who the witch was, but it was like he couldn't . . . like she was preventing him . . ."

Neal frowned. "She could have him under a compulsion spell, Emma. Or if she has his dagger, he's bound to do as she says, no matter what. That could be driving him crazy. We have to find him and help him, if we can. Come on!"

They started to jog through the trees off to the northwest, after Neal spotted some faint footprints in the dirt.

"If she has the dagger . . . that's really bad," Emma stated.

"Yeah, because with it she has total control over him, she can command him to do . . . anything and he has to obey her . . ." Neal said darkly. "He's like her damn slave, only worse, because he can't refuse her. So we need to find him, knock him out or something so she can't summon him, then get the dagger back . . ."

"Yeah, but first we need to find him," panted Emma. "God, but I'm out of shape. Eating all that New York pizza," she shook her head ruefully.

"So you liked the pizza?" Neal quipped.

"Pizza was great, so was just living there with Henry. We loved it. We went to Central park, Bronx Zoo, just hung out . . .like normal people."

"Great, isn't?" Neal asked sadly. "To be normal for once. How'd Henry like it?"

"He loved it. He had tons of friends at school and I had friends at work . . ." she trailed off, unsure of how to tell him about Walsh.

"Then you weren't lonely, just the two of you?"

"Umm . . . not really, because that was all I thought I'd ever known and . . . I met someone there . . .his name was Walsh . . . I'm sorry . . ." she apologized, because it felt as if she had done something wrong, because now that he was here beside her, and her memories had returned, she didn't want to hurt him.

"Sorry? What for? It's not like you remembered me . . . of course you wanted to have somebody who cared for you. So was it serious?"

"He proposed. But I . . . didn't accept."

Neal whistled. "Why not?"

"It just didn't feel right," she admitted. "Good thing too, because then he turned into a flying monkey."

"Sounds intense," he chuckled.

"Oh, go ahead and laugh. I almost ended up as a monster from Oz's bride," she pretended to be angry and gave him a slight shove.

"Well, I almost ended up married to some evil minion of my grandfather Peter Pan, so I know how that feels. Tamara was one of the worst mistakes I ever made, besides leaving you. I don't know what the hell I was thinking. Except that . . . I wasn't using my head." He colored faintly then said, "I'm sorry it didn't work out. I just want you to be happy, Emma," he said sincerely. That was true, though he thanked his lucky stars she hadn't married the other guy. "Even if it . . . isn't with me." It tore him apart to have to say that, but he didn't want to push her, and wasn't sure if she wanted to be with him after all that had happened. He had to let her make her own choice.

Emma turned to him. "We were happy once, Neal."

"Yeah, but you never found Tallahassee," he coughed, his hand reaching for hers.

She clasped it in his, feeling a familiar slow heat building within her at his touch. "Maybe that's because . . . I couldn't without you," she whispered. "Tallahassee was our dream, our happy ending . . . and the only way I can get there . . . is with you. Walsh was wrong . . . Hook wants me but . . . I don't feel that way about him . . . nothing feels right . . . except this . . . with you." She stepped close to him. "All those years, I told myself I didn't need you, I lied to myself . . . that year in New York, I was happy . . . but something was missing, even though I didn't know what it was . . . and it wasn't just my memories, or my parents . . . I was missing a part of my heart. I had Henry, but I wasn't complete and I knew it. I thought maybe with Walsh . . . but even then I felt it wasn't right, because what's right is having you back in my life, in Henry's life. That's my happy ending. _You._"

"Emma, you know I love you, I always have . . . I screwed up and I'm sorry . . . but sometimes you get a second chance and I'd like us to try and find Tallahassee together. You, me, and Henry. As a family. What do you say?"

"I say . . . let's go find your dad. Because he's family too, and he needs us, and we need him," Emma stated, then she pulled his head down and kissed him, a single kiss filled with all of the passion and warmth and love within her, and this time there was no hesitation, because she had found the missing piece of her heart, and now she was complete.

Neal kissed her back with equal passion, and for an instant forgot everything except how she felt in his arms and how much he adored her, until a sharp pain shot up his back and he gasped, staggering a bit.

"What . . . what happened?" Emma asked, her blue eyes puzzled.

"I . . . don't know . . .I just . . . hurt . . ." he shook his head. "Never mind. We can worry about me later. I probably pulled something jumping over that log back there. We have to find my father."

"Yeah. We'll find Tallahassee later," Emma agreed, then she studied the ground again. "This way!"

They sprinted through the trees and soon spotted Gold, crouched on the ground, holding his head again and whimpering.

"Papa?" Neal cried, alarmed. "Papa, what's wrong?"

Gold glanced up and saw his son. "No . . . Bae . . . no . . .!" he gasped. "Not supposed to be here . . . it's not safe . . . a trick . . . go away . . . not safe for you . . .!" He held up a hand as if to prevent Neal from approaching.

"Papa, it's okay . . . I'm fine . . . now we're gonna get you out of here," Neal began, walking slowly towards his stricken parent. It broke his heart to see his once proud father reduced to this . . . wreck. "It's okay, Papa, don't worry. We're gonna go home to Belle . . ."

As if that were a signal, Emma's cell rang. "Belle? What did you find out?"

"Emma, the mark on Neal's hand, it's a symbol of a ancient talisman, a key, that opens the Vault of Shadows, where the first Dark One was made. But the only way you can get that mark imprinted on you . . . is if you've used the key to open the vault . . . and therefore you were a willing sacrifice," Belle said softly.

"A what? A willing sacrifice?" Emma repeated, her mind seizing in horror. _No. Oh God, no. Neal, what have you done?_

"Yes, because that's the only way you can open the vault."

"But Belle, that's crazy. If you sacrifice yourself . . . you die!"

At that moment, Gold stood up, going to try and embrace his son, but then Neal fell to the ground, as the dark enchantment claimed him.

"Oh my God!" Emma cried, as she saw Neal crumple to the ground. "Belle, I have to go, Neal's . . . bye!" she hung up then ran to cradle her beloved in her arms . . .

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

" . . . and that's how we learned about Zelena," Emma finished telling her parents the whole story. "We need to find her, before she tries something with Gold. If she can control him . . ."

"We're going to have one hell of a problem," Charming predicted.

"I can't believe I was so stupid!" Snow raged, cupping her belly. "We'd better find Regina and tell her. Since she's still mayor, she can call out an alert or whatever you call it . . . like an APB on Zelena, like they do for criminals . . ."

"Okay, then let's do it," Emma said decisively. "Mom, you can go stay with Granny just in case Zelena comes back looking for you and Dad, let's go and find Regina. We need to find this witch and melt her away fast."

The three scattered then, leaving the loft, and Snow hugged Emma goodbye. "Good luck and . . . be careful. The last thing we need is you as well as Neal hurt. But when you do find her, Emma . . . kick her ass!"

"Will do, Mom," Emma agreed, and then she withdrew and followed David down the stairs.

Snow locked up afterwards and then waddled over to Granny's to tell them what was going on.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Belle finished reading the Booke of Night With Moon, now understanding a good deal more about the nature of magic and the Dark One curse than perhaps anyone save Rumple. She understood now the danger everyone was in due to Zelena's hasty sacrifice of an unwilling victim, and now the citizens of Storybrooke had much more to worry about than just a wicked witch. They had the wrath of the gods of night and shadow to contend with.

Belle shivered, and wondered how long it would be before the signs of the apocalypse began to manifest themselves around Storybrooke. All magic came with a price indeed, only this one would cost all of them their lives because the dark gods had been cheated due to an arrogant selfish bitch who thought she knew everything about spells of summoning and rebirth.

She pulled Gold's jacket closer around her and turned on the TV, figuring to watch some of the news while she was stuck here.

Regina was on, informing all the citizens of Storybrooke about a Wicked Witch Watch, and how they needed pails of water and back up pails of water just in case they happened to see her, and also warned them to beware of flying monkeys which could carry off a grown man and their bite might also transform one into a flying monkey . . . as well as carry fleas. She also jokingly reminded them to put away all bicycles, brooms, and sparkly shoes. Belle had to smile at the mayor's wit, trying to inject some levity into what was a serious situation so people wouldn't totally panic. Regina could be quite clever sometimes.

Regina also told Storybrooke to report any sightings of Zelena and showed a picture of the midwife on the screen, stating she was a suspect and accused of helping the wicked witch and her allies. She gave a number so they could contact her if they happened to spot Zelena, then exhorted her citizens to stay alert and strong and then the news update was over.

Belle started to change the channel with the remote on Gold's desk, the TV was a small one mounted on a wall stand in the corner of the back room, when there came a pounding at the shop entrance.

Prickles of terror shot through her as she imagined the witch trying to break through the protections on the shop and batter down the door. She grabbed the revolver out of the desk drawer and put a bullet into the chamber then took it and a spray bottle of water that she used to water the shop plants and stalked to the door.

"Who's there?"

"Belle? It's me, Ruby," came a familiar voice.

"Ruby?" Belle repeated, wondering if it were a trick. On a hunch, she said, "Well, if you're Ruby tell me my usual lunch at Granny's. And how I like it cooked."

"Uh . . . you always get a hamburger, medium, with pickles, ketchup and mayo, a side of fries, and a glass of iced tea with lemon. And Mr. Gold gets the same, but with extra lemon in his tea and he likes Thousand Island on his burger."

Belle breathed a sigh of relief. Only Ruby would know those intimate pesky details. She unlocked the door and let her friend in. "Hey," she greeted. "I was afraid you were the witch for a moment, come to take me away."

Ruby stepped inside and Belle relocked the door, resetting the wards as she did so. She turned around to face her friend. "So, what brings you here? Isn't it kind of . . . dangerous to be walking around out there?"

"Only if your name happens to be Dorothy," joked the werewolf. "Actually I came by to see how you were doing, if you needed anything, like company or something."

Belle's eyes lit on her friend. "Actually I do need something from you, Ruby. It's something only you can do and I trust you'll help me, because that's what friends do, right?"

"Yeah. Of course. And you know I'm really sorry for what happened when you had lost your memories and were in the hospital, right?"

"Yes. I've forgiven you. But here's what I need you to do. I need you to find Rumple for me. The witch is holding him prisoner somewhere in Storybrooke and I need you to find out where he is so we can rescue him," Belle said, her blue eyes fierce with determination. She removed Rumple's jacket and held it out. "You can get his scent with this."

Ruby took Gold's jacket, then said, "But . . . didn't Emma and David already find him?"

"They did, but the witch has his dagger, and she summoned him back. And I'm sure she's hidden him somewhere else by now, she wouldn't want to lose her new weapon," Belle's voice was hard and flinty. "So . . . will you do it or not?"

"Yes," Ruby agreed, then she bent to sniff the Armani jacket.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

While she waited for Ruby to return, Belle went and examined some of the magical items Rumple had in his back room. But she found nothing she could use to help her with what she wanted to do. At first she had thought to do the brave thing and try and rescue Rumple, but soon enough the clever beauty realized something. Rescuing Rumple would do no good if they didn't have the Dark One's dagger. And in order to get the dagger they had to get close to Zelena, and there was no way the witch was ever trusting anyone that much . . . unless she thought they were no possible threat to her.

No, there had to be another way. Belle pondered on what she knew of Zelena. The witch had posed as a midwife, so she knew something of herbs and teas, and had poisoned Charming with some, so she would be wary of eating and drinking anything she herself hadn't prepared, so poison was not an option.

Belle recalled her one meeting with Zelena, when the witch had asked her if she was Mrs. Gold. Belle had longed to answer yes, but her innate honesty prevented her from doing so. But why had the witch asked her _that_ particular question? She didn't know that Belle had a relationship with Rumple, and unless someone had informed of it back in Fairy Tale Land in the year no one could remember, which seemed oddly unlikely, why would she care if Rumple was married or not? Of what importance was that to her?

Unless she was trying to find out who to target next to hurt Rumple further? Or she . . . it made Belle ill to even contemplate this . . . was _attracted _to the captive sorcerer and wanted to know if she had competition? Either option was not good, and it might end up seriously causing Rumple anguish if he thought Belle was going to get hurt because of him.

The last thing Belle wanted was for Rumple to endure that on top of everything else he was enduring. She knew well how he could guilt-trip himself into thinking he didn't deserve her after all the shit Zelena was probably going to do to him . . . if she hadn't already.

No, she had to be proactive . . . to do instead of react. She flipped back through the Booke of Night With Moon, which besides being a compendium of magical history and the Dark One, was also a spellbook of both light and dark magic.

As she scanned it for something she might be able to persuade Emma or Regina to cast for her, she was already planning out what she would say to convince Rumple to go along with her newest scheme . . . a scheme that was worthy of the Dark One himself . . . or the Dark One's wife-to-be. Because as soon as all this mess with Zelena and the curse was finished, she was marrying Rumplestiltskin, come flood, fire, hell, or high water.

She tapped a fingernail on the desk and wondered where in hell Ruby was . . . and prayed she hadn't gotten caught by the witch.

Just then there came a knock, a pause, then two more knocks, a pause and then three rapid knocks in succession.

Belle smiled at the secret code she had invented for friends, and went to unlock the door. Ruby was back and hopefully she had located Rumple.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_Rumple's cage_

_Somewhere in Storybrooke:_

He looked up as Zelena entered the room, sweeping across the floor in her traditional black gown, the emerald on her breast glittering madly. He glanced away, pretending that he wasn't looking at her, and murmured, "What does my mistress want of me?"

Zelena came and stood outside the cage, smirking. "Very good, Rumple! You're learning that you can't cross me . . . not and hope to come out on top. Right?"

"No, Mistress," Rumple answered, trying to sound subservient. He looked down at the newspapers at his feet, not because he was scared to meet her eyes, but because he would rather look at them than at her, the wretched hag! If he ever got free of her control . . . he'd make her pray for a quick death . . .

"Good boy!" she praised him, and ran the tip of one long nail down his cheek. "Keep this up and I'll forget about the punishment I owe you for running away, you naughty imp!" She laughed then, a high wicked sound.

"I'm sorry, Mistress."

"Sorry you disobeyed me, Rumple? Or sorry I found you?"

"Both, Mistress!"

Zelena made a soft sound in her throat. "Hmm . . . maybe I won't beat you . . . maybe I'll just make you serve me in another capacity . . ."

He nearly retched onto the floor. The sour taste of bile filled his mouth and he swallowed hard, his stomach clenching.

"Like my personal soldier," laughed the witch. "Or an attack dog." She rubbed up against the bars, her hand stroking his hair.

Rumple's nausea increased.

"Yes . . . my vicious Dark One doggie . . .who will attack whomever I say . . ." she crooned, using the same silly voice people used when talking to their pets. "Right, Rumply-wumply? Because you know what'll happen if you bite the hand that feeds you," then her hand tangled in his hair and she yanked his head up.

He made a strangled yelp as he looked at her.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he whimpered.

"Because I can, silly!" she tittered. "My daddy always said one day I'd be mistress of anything I desire . . . and so I shall! Starting with you, cupcake!" She pulled his face against the cage bars and pressed her lips to his forehead. "Now you behave like a good boy and maybe I'll give you a treat." Then her kittenish demeanor altered, and she snarled like a virago, "Test me and I'll flay the hide off you!" she released him then. "Oh . . . and one more thing . . . you puke on the floor again and I'll make you lick it up!"

"Yes, Mistress," he forced himself to whine.

Just then her prize monkey, Allizander came into the room, screaming.

She stroked her pet's head. "Yes, sweet thing, Mama's coming to spy on those idiots. So they think they can defeat me with water? Ha! They have another thing coming! I'm protected!" and she caressed the emerald at her throat before following the monkey upstairs.

Rumple shuffled over to the backhand corner of the cage, where he pulled aside the newspapers and scraped a hole in the dirt floor, then crouched and threw up in it. When his stomach finished rebelling, he buried the mess as best he could and shoved the newspaper over it. The light was dim, she probably wouldn't notice.

He rubbed his head, it ached where she yanked his hair and smashed his forehead against the bars.

He slunk back to his pallet and curled up on it, thinking that conditions like this would kill a mere mortal, but because he was the Dark One, he just suffered instead. Only his hatred of the witch kept him sane . . . that and his love for Belle and his need to save Bae.

He had just dozed off, sleeping in fits and starts, when he heard soft footsteps approaching the cage.

He yawned and forced himself to sit up . . . then wondered if this were another hallucination. For Belle stood outside the cage door, dressed in her Gucci skirt and pretty gray blouse with her black boots and the cloak he had made her back in Fairy Tale Land, the pretty blue and green sprigged one, wrapped around her slender frame.

"Belle?"

"Oh, Rumple!" she cried, her voice hoarse with tears.

Then she put out her hand, and touched the cage lock with a slender metal bar, which glowed green . . . then the lock fell away and she was inside with him.

"Belle, how . . .?" he rasped, his eyes blurry with tears. "Please . . . you shouldn't be here . . . she'll find you . . . hurt you . . ."

"Shh . . . this is a chameleon cloak now, she won't see me because I'll blend into my surroundings . . . and this ring is now a Ring of Bountifulness, and with it I can conjure anything you might need . . . and it'll be glamouried so she can't see it, it'll be as if it was never there. All she'll see is what was there before."

"Who . . . gave them to you?"

"I had Regina and Emma enchant them for me. Of course, I didn't tell them why," she said with a faint impish grin. Then she stepped forward and hugged him tight. "Rumple, what has she done to you?"

It felt so good to be hugged, he had longed for her arms around him so many nights since he'd come to this world, that he almost forgot the disgusting condition he was in. He put his head on her shoulder and breathed in her scent. She smelled like roses and figs.

He nearly salivated. Then he recalled that he was acting like a dog . . . a mangy dog with fleas . . . and he pulled away from her. "Belle, no, don't touch me . . . I'm filthy . . . disgusting . . . crawling with lice . . ." He backed away, banging into his wheel. "Please . . ."

"Rumple, it's okay," she whispered her heart breaking for him. He was so thin! And his clothes were tattered and filthy, hanging off his lean frame like a scarecrow's. His hair was lank and he smelled like he hadn't had a bath in several days. "Let me help you."

"No. No, you can't help me. She's . . . Zelena's got my dagger . . . she can command me to do anything . . . you have to leave . . .Please, Belle . . . I don't want her to make me hurt you . . ."

"She won't. She doesn't even know I'm here, Rumple," Belle soothed.

"How did you find me?"

"Ruby," she answered.

"You should go."

"Not until I do what I've come here to do," she put a finger to his lips. "Rumple, listen to me. I know she's hurt you, I know she's treated you worse than—than a dog . . . but you can be free of her . . ."

"How?"

"Because you're going to discover her weakenesses. All of them."

He gave her a sad smile. "She won't just tell me, dearie. She's not that dumb."

"Perhaps not . . . but you're smarter than she is," Belle said stoutly. "You say she can make you do what she wants . . . and that's true . . . but what if you . . . pretend to be her servant . . . give her whatever she wishes . . . even if . . . she asks you to . . . kiss her or . . .sleep with her . . ."

"Belle, I can't do that!" he gasped. "I love you, not her!"

"I know . . . but you do whatever you have to, Rumple! Whatever you have to, in order to learn her secrets . . . and then we'll use them and defeat her and get the dagger back," Belle declared passionately.

"I . . . don't know if I can . . ."

"You can, Rumple! Because no matter what, I will always love you! Always! And I will forgive you for whatever she makes you do."

"Belle, she made me . . . kill Bae . . . she made me kill my son . . .she used him as a sacrifice so she could resurrect me . . .!" he sobbed softly. "I've delayed it, but only for a week . . . and then he'll die . . . unless I can substitute Zelena in his place . . . and placate the wrath of the gods of night and shadow."

"How?"

"She needs to be made to pay for her crimes—she cheated the dark gods of their right and just willing sacrifice, she broke the rules—all magic comes with a price—a price she refused to pay, and in so doing she broke the Laws of the Balance. Do you know what that means, Belle?"

"What does it mean?"

"It means that we have seven days to set things right, or else the gods shall bring Armageddon down on Storybrooke," Rumple hissed. "We'll all die horribly . . . unless we can make her pay. There are signs-the signs of the Apocalypse—you'll see them soon, if you haven't already—and each day they'll get worse . . . unless we stop her."

"That's why you need to play with her, Rumple. Play games with her mind, like she's done with you," Belle encouraged.

Slowly, he nodded. "Yes! I'll play her like a damn violin, the bitch!" he spat.

"And I'll come to you when I can . . . and bring you things to make you comfortable . . . and stay with you for as long as I can. You're not alone, Rumple. I promise you that." She wriggled her hand, which bore his fire opal cabochon ring on it.

A can of white powder popped up, and she moved to the pallet in the corner and removed the grimy sheet, making it vanish, and then she sprinkled the powder down. "Flea bane," she announced cheerily. Then she summoned a clean sheet and laid it on the pallet. And a blanket, his favorite one from his house, a deep blue with a chipped cup embroidered on it, and a red rose opposite it, which she had made for him. "There! Your favorite blanket."

Rumple sighed. "Belle, I appreciate this, but . . . I'm filthy . . ." he grimaced at himself.

"Then I'll conjure you a bath," she said, and suddenly there was a steaming bath filled with honey and sandalwood soap in the middle of the cage, along with huge fluffy towels, complete with a scrubby sponge. "Here, let me help you with your clothes."

She began to slowly unbutton his shirt and his pants.

She swore to herself when she saw how emaciated he was, she could almost count his ribs, and his skin was sallow and dirty. She helped him into the tub, then said, "I'll do your hair, but let me get you some new clothes first."

She turned, letting him wash himself, and summoned fresh clothing for him. Then she helped him wash his hair with a certain shampoo that killed all the vermin in it, and gently assisted him in drying off and handed him his clothes, a comfortable pair of pants and a clean purple shirt and a soft sweater, as well as his Gucci loafers and underclothes.

Once he was dressed, he felt much better, and he said, "You've done enough, Belle. Now please go."

"No, not yet. When's the last time you've eaten?"

"I can't remember . . . she brings me rice gruel . . . nasty stuff . . . I can't stomach it . . ." he admitted, ashamed.

Belle banished the bath and towels with a wave and then conjured a dish of hot oatmeal, sweetened with cinnamon and brown sugar and bananas, with some slivered almonds on top and a dash of maple syrup. She also conjured a cup of chamomile and honey tea. "Here, Rumple. Drink the tea, then eat the oatmeal."

He tried, but his hand shook, and she had to help him. He slowly sipped the hot liquid, and once he had finished that, she helped him to eat the oatmeal. He sighed happily. "You know I love my porridge, Belle."

"I know," she said, and stroked his hair back from his face. Then she wriggled her hand again and conjured a bottle of something. "Here's a chocolate protein shake for later."

"Thank you," he said, his eyes misty with tears for her kindness. He finished the bowl and handed it to her, she made it vanish, then coaxed him to lie down on his now clean bed and put his head in her lap. "Belle . . . we need to save Bae . . . I can't have him die for me . . . it's wrong . . . I would have rather stayed in limbo than that . . ."

"Shh . . .I know. We'll save, Bae, Rumple. Now just rest."

"I can't . . . when I sleep . . .the voices come . . . too many voices . . ." he whimpered fearfully.

"The voices are quiet now, Rumple," she soothed, stroking his hair. "They've gone to sleep." Then she leaned over and kissed him, a gentle kiss to soothe and calm.

He grinned lopsidedly up at her. "A kiss to make it better, dearie?"

She smiled back. "True Love's Kiss always does, beloved." Her hands continued to card his soft brown hair.

He felt his eyeslids flutter closed, then muttered, "M'tired. Need rest . . . just stay with me . . . till I fall asleep . . . Belle . . ."

"I'm here, Rumple," she crooned, and the last thing he recalled before drifting off to sleep was her voice, singing a soft lullaby that soothed his ravaged soul and quieted the voices in his head.

Belle stayed until she heard the tapping of Zelena's heels on the floor above, then she reluctantly rose, conjured one of her pillows, and tucked it beneath his head. She also conjured a covered bucket because she saw there was none in his hellhole of a prison.

Tucking the blanket around him, she kissed him on the cheek before she left the cage, vowing to return as soon as she could tomorrow, locking the door behind her and leaving the room just as she heard the wicked witch walking towards it.

Zelena entered the room, and saw all as it had been before, save for her prisoner sleeping. She sniffed and wondered for a moment why she smelled figs, then supposed it was her imagination. Tomorrow she would challenge Regina to a duel, and show the whole town what she was capable of—and with the Dark One's help, she couldn't lose. _Regina may be Evil, but I'm Wicked and Wicked always wins._ Patting the dagger in her pocket, she swept from the room.

In his sleep, Rumple smiled, for the first time since his rebirth, his dreams were no longer nightmares of despair and pain, but of hope and love, which fueled his dreams and beat back the darkness, sending it scurrying into the dark corners of his psyche to hide.


	5. Apocalypse Approaching

**5**

**Apocalypse Approaching**

The next morning the weather forecast had called for clouds and sun, but instead the sky turned an ugly sullen gray and it stormed like crazy. The torrential downpour out of nowhere, or so it seemed, caused people to stay indoors, and in some cases there were power outages. Henry and Emma vegged out on the couch in their room at Granny's, since Emma had opted to stay there since all this craziness had begun so they had their own space. It was then she broached the topic of Neal with her son.

"Henry, remember when you asked me about that case I'm working on? And I said I couldn't tell you about it, but I would later?" she began.

"Yeah, Mom. What about it?"

"Well, we came here to help someone . . . your father."

"My father's here?" the boy's eyes suddenly took on a hopeful gleam.

"Yes, but he's . . . it's a long story," Emma said, and she explained as best she could that Neal wasn't the bad guy she'd originally thought, that he'd been set up by someone a long time ago and hadn't meant for Emma to go to jail and she had come here to help him, because he was in trouble with those same people, and there was a fight and he had gotten hurt.

"Is he okay? Can I see him?" was Henry's next question.

"No, he's in ICU right now," Emma said quickly. "And they're not allowing visitors. But I did talk with him before that happened, and he said he really wants to meet you . . . he was really happy when he learned you were here . . ." she trailed off suddenly, unwanted tears streaking her face as the pressure of the last day caught up with her and knocked her for a loop.

Henry went and hugged her. "Hey. It'll be okay, Mom. He's not dead or anything. He's gonna make it."

Emma hugged him back, wiping her eyes with a hand. "You're right. He is. He's a fighter." She had to keep believing that. She mustn't lose hope. They would defeat Zelena and Rumple would restore Neal and then . . . then they would see.

"Okay. How about some pancakes and bacon?"

"Sure!" Henry agreed, and then they went downstairs to eat.

**Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break**

In Gold's shop basement, Belle used the ring Regina had enchanted to summon up a bed to put Neal on and cover him with an extra blanket, as it seemed wrong to just leave him lying on the floor like an old doll. He was still alive, sort of like a patient in a coma, and she made sure he was lying on the bed in a comfortable position before going upstairs to heat some water on Gold's little electric burner and have tea and some instant oatmeal. She had gotten some supplies for herself yesterday, for she was staying at the shop for the time being, as it was the best place for her to be in, as well as the safest.

While she ate she conjured more clothes and other necessities for Rumple, like a toothbrush and toothpaste, a razor, a small hand towel, aftershave, and a second set of clothing, as well as more protein shakes, Power bars, and a book of logic puzzles. She would go and try to see him as soon as this storm passed, though by the looks of things, it wasn't stopping anytime soon.

As she listened to the screech of the wind and the sound of rain on the roof, she recalled something Rumple had said. _The wrath of the gods of night and shadow will fall upon Storybrooke . . . we have seven days . . . if you haven't seen the signs yet, you will soon . . ._

This weather was highly irregular, even given the unpredictability factor of meteorology. Belle glanced uneasily out the window and wondered if this were the beginning of the Apocalypse. Clutching Rumple's suit jacket to her, she shivered with dread.

Then she prayed Rumple was all right and that he was finding out some of the witch's secrets.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Rumple was sitting on his now clean pallet, slowly drinking the last half of his protein shake. Luckily the one Belle had given him was a large one, he'd drank half last night and now had the other half for breakfast, dumping the disgusting gruel into the bucket she had provided. Then he'd set the bowl back on the tray and drank while he meditated.

For the first time in a long time, the voices in his head were still, and Rumple suspected that was because of Belle. Her visit had brought hope, light, and love back into his existence, and quieted the guilt and sorrow. He was clean and well-fed, no longer sick to his stomach, and now that he had a plan, he was able to focus on it. He gave a sly smirk and thought that he couldn't wait to cross wits with Zelena again, and play her like a guitar at a rock concert. She thought she could make him dance to her tune, but by the time he was done, she'd be a puppet on strings . . . and Belle would have the dagger. Or he would.

Zelena stomped into the room a few moments later, she was in a foul mood because of the weather, since torrential downpours like this prevented her from going outside to wreak havoc on Stoyrbrooke's unsuspecting population. For though she was protected from much of water's effects by the emerald she wore about her neck, she still had to avoid getting totally drenched. It was the price she'd paid for learning dark magic long ago from the Wicked Witch of the East, since her affinity was for Fire and Air, then Water could undo her, unless she guarded against it.

She came to stand in front of Rumple's cage, noting that the Dark One was sitting calmly at his wheel, toying with some straw. "Rumple!" she snapped, belting out his name like you would a dog's. "I have a question for you."

He lifted his gaze to hers, and she was pleased to see he looked . . . weary. "Yes, Mistress?"

"That woman who takes care of your shop . . . what is she to you? Your lover? A relative?"

"She's just a girl, Mistress. Her name is Miss French. I hired her to clean and dust . . . she developed a bit of a . . . crush on me, I'm afraid," he drawled lazily, his tone even and noncommittal. _Forgive me, Belle. But I must do this. I'm so sorry, dearie._ "You know how these things go."

"But you don't . . . care for her?" Zelena probed.

Rumple snorted. "For some bookish little slip like that? Oh, I grant you she's easy on the eyes, and once or twice I . . . indulged myself a bit . . . but I have no use for a girl like that. I have my magic, my gold, and my power in this town. And that is all I need." Then he added, "Why? Jealous?"

Zelena stiffened, his words had hit their mark. "Of her? Don't be an idiot. I could squash her like a bug! I was merely wondering how she came to be taking care of your shop. So she's nobody, huh? Does she have Power?"

"Not a drop. You think I'd have hired someone who did?" Rumple made the query sound flippant, as such a dumb question deserved. He could tell the lie had fallen on fertile ground, Zelena had lost that probing look and was now smug, like a cat licking cream.

"No. I forgot who I was dealing with," Zelena purred. She opened the cage door and came inside. "Would you like a bath, my scarecrow sorcerer?"

"A bath would be . . . nice. As would a new shirt."

She splayed her hand on his chest. "Yes . . . because I want you to be all squeaky clean for the duel today. The one where I teach my little sister that I'm to be feared at any and all times." She gave a wicked laugh, then patted his cheek.

Then she snapped a finger and a steaming bucket of water and a rag with a bar of soap appeared on the floor. A shirt appeared as well. "There! Clean up, Rumple! I won't have them feeling sorry for you, my pet."

"Yes, Mistress," he murmured, then rose to do so.

Zelena exited the cage and locked it, then left the room. She still had much planning to do, and she gritted her teeth as the rain lashed the side of the building she occupied. This had not been in the forecast!

Once the wicked witch had gone, Rumple washed his hands in the water, then used it and the soap to clean most of the cage, ridding it of most of the stench that had permeated it. He then removed his shirt and put the one she had given him on, folding his neatly and shoving it under the mattress. Glamoured or not, he wasn't taking any chances.

Then he returned to his wheel and spun, making up a little rhyme in his head and singing it as the wheel whirred. "_Ding dong the witch is dead, I crushed her bones to make some bread, ding dong the witch is dead, I bashed her brains right out of her head, ding dong the wicked witch is dead! Ding dong the witch is dead, I ripped out her entrails to make a sled, skinned her and put her pelt upon my bed, ding dong the wicked witch is dead!" _He began giggling as he spun, his facile brain imagining worse and worse deaths upon the green harridan, while outside the gods of night and shadow vented their wrath upon the land.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The rain petered out sometime in the early afternoon, though the sky turned an odd color—reddish, almost like the color of blood. People muttered about the signs as they cautiously went about their business.

Zelena looked pleased, and she came into the room to tell Rumple, "I'm leaving now, my pet. The rain's stopped and I need to find my little sister and issue my challenge." She looked like a child going off to the candy store. "It's going to be a beautiful afternoon."

Rumple peered out of the cage at the window, which he could just see from his vantage point. "Beautiful, dearie? _Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning,_" he quoted. "That sky doesn't look beautiful. It looks rather menacing." And he could feel the anger of the gods pressing down on his psyche, like the distant rumble of thunder. He was surprised Zelena couldn't feel it. Then again, perhaps the gods didn't want the one who had brought their wrath down to feel them until it was too late. Or perhaps it was because Zelena was too busy congratulating herself on her victory to pay attention. He had noticed that particular flaw after he had been in her presence a few hours, that arrogance, that need to lord it over others. It annoyed him, but he planned to exploit it for all it was worth.

"Whatever, Rumple," Zelena shrugged. "Now I'm off, be good and spin me some more gold."

"As you wish, Mistress."

She came and poked him in the neck with the tip of the dagger. "That's right. As _I_ wish. Things are so much better now, when I'm the one in charge, don't you think?"

_No, but **you** do._ "Just peachy. I love being in this cage. Who wouldn't? But maybe you could let me out sometime?" he reminded her, sounding a bit hurt.

"Oh, I'll let you out soon enough," she rolled her eyes at him. "As soon as I issue my challenge to itty bitty Regina," the way she said the other's name was the same way one would have said "pig droppings".

"Ah ah, dearie. You're letting your envy color your thinking again," he chided gently. "And you know what happens when you do that." He indicated a splotch on her neck which was slowly turning green.

"Yes! Somebody's going to die!" she snarled, vexed.

"Besides my son?" he queried bitterly.

"Oh, don't pout, Rumple. That _had_ to happen, in order for us to be together. I need you . . . and he was in the way. All those years of searching for him . . . . was it worth it?"

He gazed at her bleakly. "Every bit of it. My family is my life. Something you know nothing about."

She nicked him with the dagger. "And whose fault is that, Rumple? My mother abandoned me as a baby. My drunken father, the man who raised me, never loved me! And my little sister got everything she wanted and desired just for being born!" The green was spreading now, as Zelena's jealousy rose.

"Yes, yes, I know, dearie. Do you say that every night before you go to sleep?" his voice was suddenly sharp and mocking. "You know, you aren't the only one that's happened to. And at least you had a loving foster mother. So that's _something_."

"It's not enough!" she spat. "I want it all! Everything I should have had! And that's why I'm going to destroy Regina!"

"I see. Because by killing her you'll get everything you never had. Interesting logic, dearie. How's that work again?"

"Oh, you don't understand!" Zelena snapped. "Killing her will make me feel better. Will prove that I'm better than her, once and for all!"

"Because it's all about you, isn't it?" Rumple remarked.

"It's _always_ about me, Rumple," she laughed wickedly. Then she flounced out of the room.

Rumple shook his head. _Arrogant brat! Someone should have beaten that out of you long ago. But no sense crying over spilt milk, as they say. _He pulled off his sweater, for the room was suddenly sweltering. _Six days. Six days until the Apocalypse. I'd better work fast._

He began to spin, calming himself down, because he needed to shelve his animosity in order to figure out how to defeat her. But once he was back in control . . . he'd give her a lesson she'd never forget. A final lesson.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

It had been decided between the Charmings, Regina, Belle, and a few others that they needed to hold a memorial service for Neal, to act like he had died, so the witch would be fooled. But in order to keep Henry from danger, Emma asked Hook to take the boy out on his boat and do some fishing or something with him, keep him away from Storybrooke for the afternoon.

"Will do, love," the pirate said. "No harm will come to the boy with me."

"It better not," Emma warned. "Or you'll be singing soprano in the chorus, captain."

He held up a hand. "Whoa there, Mama! I promise he'll be as safe as buried treasure. See you tonight."

"Okay," Emma agreed, then she went to hug her son goodbye, thinking wistfully that it should have been Neal taking Henry fishing.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Regina had just stepped down from the podium after saying some conciliatory words about Neal when Zelena appeared in a cloud of green smoke. Everyone gasped and drew back as she approached, followed by her pet flying monkey, Allizander.

Emma glared at her. "You know, it's in really poor taste, crashing a memorial service."

"Sorry, dear. Didn't get my invitation," the witch sniggered. "Or maybe it got lost in the mail. Would you like me to make a speech? _He was such a wonderful man, kind, loving, and stupid as a box of hair. Then he died!_" she gave a little giggle. "But really, that's not why I'm here."

"Why _are_ you here?" Regina demanded.

"Why, I'm here to pay my respects . . . to _you_, baby sister!" Zelena cooed. "It's only polite, to do that before I destroy you in the duel we're gonna have this evening. Six o'clock on Main Street."

"Excuse me? I'm not your sister. I was an only child."

"Cora lied, Regina. I _am_ your sister. Half, if you want to get technical. She had me before she married your father." Her hand clenched upon her emerald pendant.

"Why should I believe you?" Regina asked icily.

"Why would I lie?" countered Zelena. "But believe me or not, dear, it's all the same to me." She reached into a pocket and flourished the dagger. "Be there, on Main Street, little sister, at the appointed time, or else I shall unleash the Dark One on you all! Got me?" She bared her teeth in a vicious smile, then put the dagger back in her pocket. "Don't be late!" Then she spun and faced the rest of them. "And you're all invited to see the show. Bring the kiddies too. It'll be educational! They can witness the death of the Evil Queen!"

"This isn't the Wild West!" Regina growled.

"No, dear. It's the Wicked West!" Zelena smirked. "Now carry on!"

Then she vanished again, along with Allizander, though not before the monkey flung something at Regina.

It hit her skirt with wet splat!

"Ugh!" Regina grimaced. "I'm killing that monkey!" Then she vanished the poop on her skirt. "Along with her."

"Then you believe she's your sister?" Snow asked.

"Maybe. No wonder why my mother never talked about her," Regina snorted. "In any case, if it's a duel she wants, it's a duel she'll get. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go prepare."

Then she vanished as well.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

People clogged Main Street as the appointed hour approached, gathering about worse than flies on a dungheap. Emma frowned at the sight, standing beside her parents, and said, "They shouldn't be here. Not with what's about to go down. Somebody could get seriously hurt or even killed."

"You're right," Charming agreed. "We need to get these people away from here." He turned and faced the crowd. "Everybody, listen up! You all need to go home. This doesn't concern you and you need to get away from here before it's too late. . ."

"Nobody's going anywhere," Zelena announced, storming onto the scene in a flawless black dress that flowed in slinky waves to her feet, which were encased in pointed buckled shoes. Her emerald pendant in its antique silver setting glittered like a cat's eye on her breast, and she wore a jaunty black hat on top of her red curls. She had the dagger tucked in her belt.

"This duel needs an audience . . . so you're all staying. Anybody moves, and I'll let the Dark One off his leash," she grinned maniacally.

For the Dark One was behind her, in a wrinkled Armani suit, shirt, and tie, his hair hanging lank and limp in his face. His face was emotionless, it could have been carved of pure alabaster. Only his eyes betrayed the living soul beneath the façade . . . and they burned with despair and vengeance.

Those who tried to meet his eyes turned away, shaking in fear, though a few hung their heads in sorrow as well, for they knew all too well that Rumple was Zelena's prisoner, and they hated the witch and so felt some compassion for his plight.

Only one person gazed into his tortured brown orbs, one person dared to absorb his misery, fury, and vengeance and not fear the price of doing such an absurd thing.

Belle kept her gaze upon Rumple, her cerulean eyes meeting his, channeling all of her love and devotion and hope into a single glance. _Oh, Rumple! She'll make you fight for her . . . but she can't make you like it. Do what you must . . . and afterwards I'll be there to pick up the pieces. I love you, Rumple. I love you._

He shuddered slightly as he read the message in her gaze, the unwritten testimony to hope, light, and love. He shut his eyes and then shook his head, opening them an instant later, looking bored. He wanted to run and take her in his arms, but he knew better. Instead he pretended to look above her, as if he didn't see her.

Beside him, Zelena shifted and clenched her gloved fists. "If my sister isn't here in five minutes, I'm going to have the Dark One kill one of you." She caressed the dagger.

Rumple ground his back teeth together. He could feel her sick urging through the dagger bond, and it made him nauseated. He hated being helpless, but he could do nothing save endure it. Overhead, the sky suddenly darkened.

Rumple sucked in a breath. It was like the sun was beating down upon him, even though the clouds were covering it. The wrath of the gods of night and shadow . . . was about to be unleashed . . .and he could do nothing to stop it.

Zelena tapped a foot on the ground. Regina was late. She brought up a hand. "Teach them a lesson, Dark One!"

Rumple felt himself jerked to attention. But the parameters of the command left him with some leeway, and he used it then to pick a target he knew could withstand his magical punishment. _Emma, I hope you still remember that shield spell I taught you,_ he thought regretfully, and thrust out a hand.

Emma found herself flying through the air, but recalled Gold's lesson in the nick of time, and shielded herself before she slammed into the street.

As she shook her head and got up, helped by Snow and Charming, Regina strode through the mass of people, wearing a classy black dress and her Gucci pumps, with red gloves on her hands. She gave Zelena a sassy smile. "Didn't anyone tell you? Black is _my_ color."

"But it looks better on me," Zelena taunted.

Behind her, Gold rolled his eyes heavenward. It was like listening to two kids in a schoolyard.

"You didn't think I was afraid of you . . . did you, sister?" Regina growled.

"Ah, then you've accepted me into the family," drawled the witch.

_Like we don't have enough psychos on the family tree,_ Rumple thought disparagingly.

"No, I've accepted the fact that you and I share a mother," answered the mayor. "That's all."

"I'm stronger than you," Zelena sneered.

"You wish," laughed Regina.

Rumple fought the urge to yell, _Knock it off you two! Before I count to three!_ He wished they would just get on with it, his head ached from the pressure of the gods' gaze.

"I have just one question for you," Regina hissed. "What did I ever do to you?"

"Isn't it obvious? You . . . were . . . born!" crowed her sister.

"Bitch!" snarled Regina, and then she slapped Zelena across the face hard.

Zelena staggered, then put a hand to her lip. It came away stained with blood. She grinned. Then she put out her hand and Regina went tumbling through the air . . . and landed with a thud on a blue Miata.

"Oh no! My Miata!" whimpered Doc as Regina got up, leaving a dent in his precious blue baby.

_Finally!_ Rumple thought exasperatedly. _Fight!_

Regina landed on her feet with the cat like grace of a panther, then she gestured and suddenly a black one was right beside her.

Snarling, it sprang at Zelena, claws unsheathed.

Zelena went backwards and cried, "Dark One! Attack!"

_Pansy ass!_ sneered Rumple. _You're calling on me already?_ He made a brief motion with a hand . . .and the panther became a kitten that hissed and peed on Zelena's shoe, then ran away.

"Eeew!" the wicked witch screamed like a little girl getting her hair pulled. "Disgusting little beast! Why didn't you kill it?"

Rumple raised an eyebrow. "It's just a cat." Then he giggled at her. "Aww! Did the little kitty scare you, dearie?"

"Shut up!" snapped Zelena, then she conjured a fireball and threw it at Regina. "Wanna play with fire?"

Regina banished the fireball with a flick of her wrist. "Tsk! Tsk! Naughty girls who play with fire, sister dear . . . get put out with a garden hose!"

Suddenly a six foot silvery hose appeared in her hands, and Regina turned it on and aimed it right at Zelena.

Water shot from the nozzle and slammed into the gloating witch, sending her sprawling across the ground.

"Ooh! I see London, I see France, I see the wicked witch's underpants!" hooted Grumpy.

The crowd howled with laughter as the soaked Zelena turned bright green and scrambled to her feet, dripping, her black eyeliner running in streaks down her face.

"Damn, girl! You shoulda bought L'Oreal!" sniggered Ruby.

The witch turned. "One more comment from the peanut gallery and he's going to make a rug out of your hide . . . _wolf_!"

"Ha!" Granny snorted. "If he weren't under your thumb, he'd tan yours!"

_Damn straight I would!_ Rumple thought longingly.

"Be quiet, you old fart!" Zelena cried, then she turned and sent a wind gust at Regina.

Regina was blown through the air . . . and hit the clock tower.

But then she bounced back and shot lightning from her fingers, crying, "Here, Zelena! It's the wave of the future!"

Lightning nailed the witch where she stood.

"Damn! She's lit up like a Christmas tree!" yelled Sneezy.

"Bet that hurt!" Bashful remarked.

Zelena, however, wasn't finished yet. She emerged from the lightning round crisped but still on her feet, her hair burnt and her hat singed. "Dammit! I broke a nail!" She shook her hand and cried, "I'll get you, my pretty!"

Then she summoned her broom and jumped on it.

Because he couldn't speak, Rumple hummed, "I Believe I Can Fly."

As Zelena soared into the sky, he turned slightly and made crashing and burning motions with his hands in the general direction of Belle and Emma.

The two nearly died laughing.

Then he winked and turned about, all serious again, like a cardboard figurine.

"What the hell is so funny?" demanded Zelena, looking down at them. "I'm going to kill you, Regina."

Regina was floating in the air. "That's been tried, honey. Didn't work out too well . . . since I'm still here and they're six feet under!" She hurled three fireballs at Zelena.

The wicked witch dodged them on her broom.

Then she threw a ball of pure magical force at her sister, forcing Regina to teleport away.

"Missed her! Missed her!" chanted the dwarves. "Now you gotta kiss her!"

"Eew! Guys, that's disgusting!" Snow cried, grimacing.

"I'd rather die!" Zelena howled. "Now shut up! Or else!" She flew around the clock tower and zoomed down towards Regina on the street below.

Regina smirked, then she blinked away, causing her sister to pull up frantically on her broom before she crashed.

Behind her, Rumple made his hand fly and then smash down into his other hand. _Mayday! Mayday!_

Cursing, Zelena yanked her broom up and flew into the sky, and those watching groaned.

"Aww! She was almost a squashed witch!" Dopey groaned. Happy patted him on the shoulder.

Zelena threw a fireball at the watching dwarves, who scattered like ninepins. Then she laughed wickedly and went after Regina again, shooting fiery projectiles at her.

Rumple made a discreet hand motion . . . and the fireball landed harmlessly on the ground, fizzled, and died. _Temperamental bitch!_

Regina made a swirling motion with her hand, and the fiery bolts were repelled. Then she attacked with a swarm of bees, and made Zelena scream and vanish herself, only to reappear a second later, looking much the worse for wear.

She stomped over to Rumple. "Heal me! And be quick about it!"

"Yes, Mistress," he mumbled, then laid a hand on her and did so. Healing required finesse, and Zelena, for all her power, was like a bull in a china shop.

Zelena patted him on the head then cried, "Oh, Regina! Come out, come out wherever you are!"

"Right here, old bat!" Regina cried, and appeared almost at her elbow. Then she slammed Zelena in the face with something brown and sticky. "Here's mud in your eye, sis!"

"Oooh! You wretched brat!" howled the wicked witch. "You hit me in the face . . . with a cow pie!"

As she tried to banish the smelly goop, Rumple giggled and sang softly, "Oh, me, oh my! I love pie!"

Zelena drew her hands down her face, snarling, "What was that, Rumple?"

"Nothing, dearie," he replied casually. "I got something stuck in my throat."

Glaring at him fit to kill, Zelena teleported across the street and used her magic to grab Regina by the throat. "You're gonna die today, baby sis!"

Regina struggled in her grasp, and Zelena smiled cruelly and reached into her chest to rip out her heart.

A shocked look came over her face. "Where? Where is it?"

Suddenly, Regina's hand shot out, and sent a pulse of magical energy into her sister, shocking her enough to let go.

Zelena drew back, and Regina hissed, "That's something I learned from our mother! Never bring your heart to a witch fight!" Then she sent the other witch flying across the ground.

The people watching cheered.

_Good! Now finish her!_ Rumple urged silently.

Humiliated, Zelena climbed to her feet. Then she whistled for Allizander, and sent the monkey to attack Regina.

While the primate kept Regina busy, Zelena turned to Gold and said, "I see Miss French is here. Why don't we test a theory, Rumple?" The witch licked her lips. "Kiss me."

Rumple felt the compulsion ooze through him like some malignant disease. He shuddered and swallowed hard. But he couldn't ignore the compulsion. He was bound to do what she had said . . . right in front of Belle. He squeezed his eyes shut. _Forgive me, sweetheart,_ he thought sadly. Then he recalled her words to him, and some of the crushing guilt eased.

He straightened and went towards Zelena, thinking angrily, _you might compel me, but be careful what you wish for, dearie! You just might get it!_

He took the tall witch in his arms . . . then he leaned in and kissed her . . . but this kiss was unlike any he had ever given a woman before.

Born out of pain and loathing, he kissed her roughly, and when she attempted to stick her tongue in his mouth, he bit her, one sharp nip.

She yelped and drew back. "Oh!"

He gave her a slight smile. "Sorry. Got a wee bit carried away there."

"Idiot!" she spat, then she looked over to see how Belle was reacting.

Belle looked miserable, she had a hand over her mouth and her eyes shimmered with tears.

Zelena grinned. "Looks like our little beauty still carries a torch for you."

Rumple shrugged.

Just then, Allizander screeched as one of Regina's fireballs singed it.

Zelena looked, then said, "Time to go! I'll get you next time, my pretty!"

She made a gesture and Allizander vanished.

Then she grabbed a hold of Rumple and they did the same, returning to the house she was renting.

She shoved Rumple into the cage and locked him in, then gave him some rice gruel and water with a moldy piece of bread, then hissed, "Your supper, my pet! I'm going out. I need to replenish some of my supplies."

"Really, dearie? What are you buying? Handcuffs? Whips? Some new Victoria's Secret panties?"

Zelena blushed. "You . . . how do you know about those?" she sputtered.

He giggled annoyingly. "A little bird told me. So . . . are you?"

"Shut up!" she ordered. Then she snapped, "If you behave, I'll model them for you when I come back."

"Can't wait," Rumple made himself sound eager, though he wanted to vomit after hearing that.

"I'll be back!"

Then Zelena spun around and disappeared, leaving Rumple alone.

Soon after she had gone, Belle came into the room, wearing her cloak and carrying a little basket.

"Rumple?" she whispered.

"Over here, dearie," he said, giving her a guilty look.

Belle opened the cage door with a wave of her hand, which had his ring on it. "Are you okay?"

He looked down at the ground. "I've . . . been better. I think I need to scrub out my mouth. I've got witch germs . . . ugh!" He grimaced sharply, feeling violated even though he had only done what he'd been compelled to do.

Belle came over to him. "Rumple . . . don't. She _made_ you do it." Her hand gently cupped his chin and pulled his head up.

He forced himself to meet her gaze. "So what? I still did it. Even though I bit her, I still . . . feel filthy . . .like the time I kissed Hodor's boot . . . only worse . . .I'm so sorry, Belle . . ."

"Don't, Rumple. You have nothing to be sorry for. Or ashamed of," she soothed. "Here. I brought you a toothbrush and some toothpaste, mouthwash, a razor, aftershave . . ." she showed him the contents of the basket.

Then she conjured him a pitcher of warm bayberry scented water and a basin so he could brush his teeth and shave.

While he scrubbed his teeth until they bled, trying to rid himself of the feel of her on him, Belle placed clean clothing on the bed and waved a hand, emptying out the waste bucket and setting another protein shake and a Power bar on it, then summoning a hot meal for him—a flaky meat and potato pie with a glass of iced tea with lemon.

He shaved while she watched, wielding the razor in expert flicks until his jaw was free of unsightly stubble. Once he had finished his ablutions, she vanished everything and then said, "Why don't you come and eat something, Rumple?"

He sighed. "It smells wonderful, Belle. But . . ." he didn't know how to tell her he'd lost his appetite since dwelling on that kiss.

Belle could see the guilt pouring off him in waves, and she rose and took his face in her hands. "Rumple . . . I still love you . . . no matter what. And whatever she makes you do . . . remember this." Then she brought her mouth down on his and kissed him.

Her kiss was sweet and gentle at first, claiming his mouth softly, asking and not taking. She waited until she felt him respond, then she altered it slightly, kissing him with more passion.

Rumple hesitated, but only for a moment, then he was kissing her back with equal fervor, loving the touch of her mouth on his, she tasted of strawberries and chocolate, sweet and dark, and sinfully rich. Her kiss erased the ugly memory, soothed his ravaged spirit, and made him feel reborn.

Belle allowed all of her love to surge from her, kissing him unrestrainedly now, wanting him to feel what she did, and then she murmured, "How's that? Better?"

He drew back from her, giving her a giddy smile. "Dearie, you get any better than this and I just might pass out from euphoria. I feel like a human being again." He stroked her chestnut tresses lovingly.

"Eat, Rumple," Belle urged. "Before she comes back and steals your appetite away.

So he sat down and ate, devouring almost all of the pie and the tea, for using magic like that burned away energy and calories like nothing else. Once he was finished, Belle banished the items and they lay down on the pallet together, not doing anything, just taking comfort in the other's presence as they snuggled together, wrapped about each other like pretzels.

"I think . . . I think that emerald necklace she wears is important," Belle murmured into his ear.

"Mmm . . . yes, I'd say so. Have to find out . . . about it. But right now . . . I need to sleep . . ." Yawning, he pressed his face into the pillow and his eyes shut.

Belle carded his hair, twining the silky strands about her fingers, then burying her face in it, breathing in the scent of him. _I love you so much, Rumple. And together we'll find a way to beat this green bitch at her own game! _

She stayed until she heard the key turning in the lock and then she reluctantly got up and left Rumple's cage, locking the door behind her, then climbing out the window. Luckily, the window was on the ground floor, for she wasn't Spider Woman.

Belle glanced back once as she hurried away, and as she did so, the wind began to blow, bending the trees almost to the ground, and causing her to grab onto a lamp post for balance.

She glanced up at the sky and saw that it seemed filled with odd specks . . . which drifted like sparks on the wind, and she soon realized that they were flecks of ash.

Ash as if from a funeral pyre.

Shivering, she clutched her coat closer and ran home to the pawnshop.

The Apocalypse was approaching.

**A/N: Okay . . . now how was THAT duel compared to the one on the show?**


	6. Her Servant

**6**

**Her Servant**

_Gold's pawnshop_

_The next day:_

Belle woke up and dressed in a conservative gray top and skirt with black tights and sensible shoes, not feeling up to dressing in more debonair clothing this morning. She was feeling kind of depressed, thinking about how much she missed Rumple and what he could be enduring at the hands of that green bitch. She had just finished drinking her tea and eating a breakfast bar when someone pounded on the door to the shop—using the secret code she and Ruby had invented.

Belle went to the door and opened it—and found Regina on the other side. "Regina? Did . . . did you need something?"

"Let me in!" the other woman said impatiently. "Before someone-or something-sees! She has spies everywhere!"

Belle allowed Regina to come in, then locked the door, making sure the sign was turned to Closed. "Umm . . . can I help you with something?"

"Yes! I need proof that Zelena really is my sister," Regina sighed. "Because if she's telling the truth, I need to change the locks on my house and the family crypt."

"Oh. I see. So you need something like . . . a DNA test, only with magic?" Belle surmised.

"Yes. Does Rumple have anything like that?"

"Well . . . I did see a spell like that . .. in the Booke of Night With Moon," admitted Belle.

Regina's eyes widened. "_You_ have the Booke of Night With Moon?"

Belle nodded. "Yes. Rumple told me to read it, so I would know how the Dark One came about . . . and why his rebirth is tainted by Zelena's sacrifice of Neal. It's a compendium of magical history and spells—"

"I know what it is! It's only the most powerful spellbook in our realm!" Regina cried. "One that he refused to let me read! Where is it?"

"Here," Belle went and got the heavy volume from Rumple's desk in the back room and set it on the glass case in front of Regina.

Regina went to page through it . . . and snapped, "What is this, a joke? These pages . . . are blank!"

"Blank? The words are right there," Belle pointed to them.

"Where? This is a blank page!" the mayor snarled.

"You . . . don't see words?" Belle repeated, bewildered.

"No! But how come you do?" Regina asked, frustrated.

"I . . . don't know," Belle murmured, puzzled. "Maybe . . . he cast some kind of enchantment on it . . . so only those he gives permission to can read it?"

"That would be _just_ like him!" Regina scowled. "Okay, then I need you to look up a potion for me—it's called the Parental Identity potion. Then I need you to write down all the ingredients and the brewing instructions for me. Got it?"

Belle nodded, busy flipping through the pages. After a few moments of cross referencing, she found what Regina had requested. "Here it is!" Then she got a pen from her pocket and a small note pad and began to write. After ten minutes she was done and she handed the completed potion recipe to Regina.

Regina took it and scanned the list. "Good thing I have most of these . . . except . . . dammit . . . I need her hair to make it work!"

"Her hair?"

"Yes, because her hair is crucial for the potion to identify who she is," Regina sighed. "Now what?"

"Uh . . . you could ask Mary Margaret . . . maybe she has a hair from Zelena. Or maybe I could get one for you," Belle mused.

"How can you do that?"

"I have my ways," Belle said mysteriously, thinking that Rumple could probably get a strand of hair easily. Then something else occurred to her. "Regina, have you noticed all the . . . weird things that have been happening lately? Like the weather?"

"Yes. It's damn odd. And now the sky's turned this odd green shade. Like vomited broccoli," Regina grimaced. "I don't like it."

"Rumple says the signs will only get worse, because Zelena broke the Balance and cheated the gods of night and shadow of their just and willing sacrifice. He says we have seven days to make Zelena pay for her mistake . . . or the gods will destroy all of Storybrooke."

Regina paled. "He really said that? Then this is like . . . Armageddon!"

"Yes. He said it to Emma before Zelena came and dragged him off," Belle said, not wanting anyone, even Regina, to know what she was up to. It was safer if only she and Ruby knew for now where Rumple was.

"What day is this?"

"Uh . . . the sixth, I think. Unless we're counting from the time Neal passed on. Then it's five," Belle told her.

"Shit! I'd better work fast then!" groaned Regina. "Do whatever you have to, but get me that hair!"

"I will," Belle assured her. "Regina, do you know why it's called the Booke of Night With Moon?"

"Because it's the only spellbook to ever contain spells of both light and dark within its pages. It represents the Balance of the world. No night without day, no day without night, even in the deepest part of the night, there are stars and the moon shines down. It's why it's the most powerful spellbook in history," Regina quoted softly. She clenched a fist. "And I can't read it!"

"Could Zelena?" Belle wondered.

"Who knows? I doubt it . . . but best hide it good when you're not here," Regina advised. "Now . . . I need to start gathering all the ingredients. I'll stop back tomorrow to get the hair. Don't fail me, Belle! All our lives could depend on stopping my . . . sister at her own game."

"I won't. I know perfectly well what's at stake," Belle assured her.

Then she unlocked the door and Regina swept out, going to her crypt to begin preparations.

Belle locked the door again and began to gather some more supplies for Rumple and put them in a basket. She opened a drawer and found some thin candles and a lighter, which she stuck into the basket, then she went to search for a candle holder.

Half-hidden behind some creepy dolls she found an ornate silver candelabra. On a whim, she set it down and dusted it with a rag, then went to light the candles within it, wanting to make sure they still worked, and didn't need new ones.

As the candles flared to life, a face appeared in the flames.

Belle almost dropped the lighter on the floor. "Who are you?"

"Why, do you not remember me, mademoiselle? It is I, Lumiere!" the candelabra reminded her.

"Lumiere? Do I know you?" Belle repeated.

"Quite well, I should say! We met in the Dark Castle some time ago . . . you were looking for a way to bring Rumplestiltskin back from the dead . . . and I agreed to help you."

Belle frowned, she couldn't recall anything of the past year, however. "And how could a . . . candelabra do that?"

"Because . . . I am not just a candelabra. I was once a wizard . . . and Zelena is my daughter," Lumiere stated. "What has happened since we last talked?"

Belle gaped at him. Then she said, "If you remember me, then you must also remember my companion. What was his name?"

"Ah, you are testing me!" Lumiere chuckled. "You are wise as well as beautiful! His name . . . was Baelfire, son of Rumplestiltskin. See, I am not lying. We've met before."

"Once upon a dream," Belle muttered, wishing she could remember. But the past year was a blank. Sighing, she said, "Yes, Bae was with me. He went to get the dagger from Zelena, and she captured him . . ."

Lumiere listened gravely as Belle told him what had gone on . . . and what they planned to do now.

"I need to go to Rumple now," she finished her tale. "And tell him we need Zelena's hair for the potion."

"Actually, mademoiselle Belle, you don't," Lumiere corrected. "You only need me. I can vouch that Cora and I were . . . together and that Zelena is indeed our child."

"That's right!" Belle exclaimed. Then she frowned. "But Rumple told me . . . that she claimed she never knew her real parents . . ."

Lumiere laughed. "Of course she would say that! Belle, _cherie_, she is a practiced liar. She never knew Cora, true, but she knew me. I raised her from a baby . . . and taught her all I knew . . . but it wasn't enough for her. She was power-hungry, greedy, and selfish. She was also stronger than I was. And when the day came when she realized she could learn nothing more from me . . . she trapped me in this candelabra and went off to seek the Wicked Witch of the East. . ." as Lumiere told her again his story, the lights in the shop suddenly flickered and went out.

Belle blinked in alarm. "The power's gone out? Why?"

No sooner had she asked that, then the windows and the whole shop rattled and shook as an enormous gust of wind slammed into the shop. Belle turned and stared in horror out the front window.

Trees were bent and broken and the wind was screaming like a lost soul, thunder boomed and purple lightning flickered, and as she watched, a small tornado spawned in mid-air.

"God! It's a tornado!" she yelped, then she grabbed Lumiere and headed down to the shop basement, tucking the precious spellbook under her other arm as well as the basket for Rumple.

As she did so, she prayed the shop could withstand the awful suction of the cyclone.

"I don't understand," she whimpered to Lumiere as she crouched beside the bed with Neal upon it. "There was no warning or anything. How could a tornado just appear like that?"

"The gods of night and shadow can break the rules, now that the Balance has been upset," Lumiere told her. "This is only the beginning, I'm afraid."

Belle set Lumiere beside the bed and clutched Neal's hand for dear life, wishing for once that she was as oblivious as the man lying in the bed beside her. _Rumple, please be safe. Please._

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

On Main Street, at Granny's diner, people were in the middle of eating their lunch when all the lights went out and the window shattered.

"Everybody, stay calm!" Granny cried, but people ignored her, screaming and cringing in terror.

"It's just a little storm!" David said, attempting to try and stave off the panic that was building in the patrons.

"That's more than a little storm!" Emma cried, pointing. "That looks like the tornado from the Wizard of Oz!"

People began screaming and running into the bathroom . . . or crawling beneath the tables . . . as the tornado ripped the shingles off the roof and sent them flying through the air.

"We're all gonna die!"

"How come this is happening?"

"It's like the end of the world . . .!"

Emma crouched beneath their booth with Snow, holding her hand and whispering, "More than they know. I'm just glad Henry's not here."

"Where is he?" Snow asked.

"Hook took him out on his boat," Emma replied. Then she gasped. "Oh, God! You don't think . . . what if the tornado came out onto the water . . .?"

Snow squeezed her hand. "Emma, you can't think like that. We have to just pray he's safe . . . and hope we'll be too . . ."

Emma wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. "Damn Zelena to hell!"

"I don't think that's necessary," her mother whispered. "Because hell's already here."

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Down in the crypt, Regina was safe from the effects of the storm, though she was interrupted several times by her cell ringing off the wall, as well as getting dozens of text messages from city hall. Swearing, she stopped what she was doing and began to answer them.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

In a house across town, Rumple curled up on his pallet, and listened to the howl of the wind and drew his knees up to his chest, trying to make as small a target as possible in case the roof caved in and things started falling. Sweat streamed down his face, for with the power out, there was no air conditioning in the room and it was stiflingly hot.

_Maybe I'll get lucky and something will happen to Zelena, _he thought longingly. _Or I could get hit in the head with a two by four and die. That would serve Zelena right._

But he knew the latter was wishful thinking. The dark gods weren't finished with him yet, and until they were, he would get no relief. Still, one could dream.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Meanwhile, Zelena was walking rapidly down the street after making a trip to Clark's Pharmacy to get some things she needed when the tornado struck. She was nearly lifted into the air, but managed to drop her bags and clutch a lamp post for support.

Trees fell on cars and smashed into the ground. Buildings were torn in half and a park bench and a bicycle went spinning through the air.

Behind her, Allizander screeched in terror as the wind picked him up and sent him tumbling through the air . . . all the way across town.

Sirens wailed and cars honked, children cried and people crouched in doorways, petrified.

Zelena managed to gather her power and push the wind back a little, enough so she could keep her feet on the ground. Grabbing her bag, she began to walk slowly down the sidewalk, swaying a bit when the wind slammed into her magical shield.

She allowed a smug grin to creep over her face, thinking, _Ha! No wimpy wind tunnel is going to stop **me**!_

She paused for an instant beside a small house with red shutters to get her breath, as it had suddenly become hard to draw a decent one . . . when she heard an ominous screeching and creaking noise.

Zelena looked up . . . and saw the tornado spinning above her.

It picked up the house beside her, sending it whirling through the air like a child throwing toys all over his room in a tantrum.

Zelena screamed . . . just as the house landed a mere foot from her, creating a huge crater in the sidewalk and nearly crushing her.

"Fuck!" she yowled. "Stupid tornados!" and she shook her fist at the swirling vortex before running as quickly as she could down the street to her rented house.

In his blue Miata across the street, Doc gripped the steering wheel for dear life and muttered, "You almost got her, Lord! Just like Dorothy!"

Zelena stomped into the room where Rumple's cage was, in a vicious temper. "I hate this town!" she growled, kicking a garbage pail across the room. "Do you know there are tornados everywhere all of a sudden, Rumple? Tornados!"

Rumple cautiously lifted his head. "Didn't I warn you, dearie? All magic comes with a price."

"Is that all you can say, you carping crow?" Zelena spat. "A house nearly fell on me!"

Rumple started laughing. _Too bad it missed._

"It's not funny! I was almost smashed into concrete!" raged the wicked witch.

"Just like your sister," he giggled.

"Who? Regina? I wish!" Zelena said enviously.

"Not her . . . the Wicked Witch of the East . . . at least in the movies . . ." Rumple sniggered.

"I don't know what you're babbling about, Rumple! You're not making sense."

"I am, dearie! It makes perfect sense!"

"Maybe to you, but then you've gone totally mad," she snorted.

"We're all mad here, dearie! Or haven't you heard?" he sat up.

She rolled her eyes. "All I hear is a tiresome batty imp who's going to get his hands ironed if he doesn't quit making fun of me!"

Rumple tisked at her. "Such a shame, Mistress! You can't appreciate the fine art of humor." He gave a small chuckle.

"I almost died! What the hell is so funny about that?" she screeched, grabbing the cage bars and pressing her face against them, glaring at him.

"That's for me to know and you to find out!" he smirked.

"Wipe that grin off your face!" she ordered. "Before I teach you what it's like to lick my feet!"

Rumple sobered, then gave her huge puppy dog eyes and murmured, "But Mistress, don't you want me to be happy?"

"What for?"

"Why . . . because all servants with fine mistresses like you should be happy," Rumple replied. "Look at me! I have this lovely cage to sleep in and I can spin all day . . .yippee!" He sat down at his wheel then and started spinning, then when the straw was turning into gold at a rapid rate, began singing in a childish voice, "If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands!" He clapped his hands three times. "If you're happy and you know it and you really want to show it, clap your hands!" He clapped again.

Zelena felt her head spin around. "What the _hell_ is _wrong _with you?"

"Nothing! I'm just . . . happy, happy, happy!"

Then he giggled again like a demented hyena.

Zelena goggled at him. The giggling was getting on her nerves. As was his sudden cheerfulness. She snapped her fingers and a bucket and a scrub brush appeared at her feet. "Scrub the floor, Rumple!"

"As you wish!" Rumple stood up, bowing to her, and came out of the cage. She wanted a servant . . . then a servant she would get . . . until she grew sick of it. Grinning diabolically, he knelt and dipped the brush into the bucket of soapy water and began to wash the floor.

Zelena stepped backwards, sniffing like a woman who smells something foul. "You happy now, Rumple?"

"Always, Mistress!" he replied, then he began to whistle as he scrubbed the floor, the jaunty tune made popular by a certain animated Disney movie long ago, called fittingly, "Whistle While You Work."

Zelena gritted her teeth. "Why are you whistling, dammit? You like scrubbing the floor, huh?"

Rumple continued whistling gleefully, sensing he was driving her crazy . . . which was his intention all along. As he scrubbed, he banged the brush along the floor in time to his tune, and bopped his head also.

Zelena felt like she was rapidly losing control of the situation. She didn't know why, but his bizarre behavior annoyed the hell out of her. She grabbed up the bowl of gruel and threw it at him.

It bounced off his shoulder and landed on the floor with a splat!

"Clean it up! And then we'll see how happy you are about starving!"

Rumple looked from the witch to the mess on the floor and gave her a goofy grin. "There are children starving in Africa, Mistress. And I'd happily starve if that's what _you_ wanted!" He giggled insanely. "Or to avoid eating whatever in hell this is." He gestured to the gruel spattered on the floor.

She flushed. "It's all I know how to make!"

"Really, dearie? How sad. Didn't your mommy ever teach you how to cook?" he quipped. Then he gasped and put a hand to his mouth. "Oops! My bad! I forgot—you never knew your mommy!" He deliberately banged his head upon the floor . . . or at least he made it seem like that's what he did. "So sorry, Mistress!" He looked up at her with his best sheepish look. "How about if I make it up to you? I'll share one of my happiest memories with you . . . when I was a little boy, my papa abandoned me too, and I lived with some spinsters. They taught me how to spin the best thread and when we'd sold all of it at the market, they would go home and bake a special meat pie. The smell filled the whole house, it was so tantalizing and mouthwatering. And when it was done, after it had cooled, they always let me have the first bite!"

He licked his lips.

Zelena was practically drooling after that description. "So . . . how do you go about making this . . . meat pie?"

Rumple shrugged. "Go to the library. They have plenty of cookbooks there. I'm sure there's a recipe."

"Hmm . . ." Zelena looked thoughtful. "Maybe I should." She waved a hand and the floor was clean and the bucket and brush banished. "Get back in your cage now, Rumple."

He obeyed. "Where are you going, Mistress? It's not . . . safe out there."

She smirked as she shut the cage door and locked it. "Why, Rumple!" she cooed, batting her lashes at him coquettishly. "I do believe you're . . . concerned for me!"

He nodded, then said, "Of course I am, Mistress." He gave her a rather pitiful infatuated look.

She simpered like a teenager asked to the prom by the captain of the football team. "Well, now! You be a good boy and when I get back . . . we'll have some supper together . . . like maybe that meat pie you were going on about. It'll be your reward for being a good servant!"

He nodded eagerly, like a puppy given scraps from the table. He then lowered his eyes to the wheel to hide the triumph in them. _Damn, I ought to get an Oscar for that performance!_

Zelena strode out of the room, hoping that she could recreate this. . . meat pie he had described and that made her salivate thinking about. If she could and it turned out well, she would have him eat dinner with her . . . because for some reason, she found she wanted to . . . impress him. Now that she had broken him, so to speak, she could enjoy him a little. He was actually starting to grow on her, and she was suddenly very glad he felt nothing for that French woman.

Using her magic, she transported herself to the library, since with the tornados still raging, it was unsafe to walk there.

Then she tossed a ball of light up into the air so she could see while she perused the cookbook section.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

In the cage, Rumple munched on a Power bar and drank half his protein shake, then he sat crosslegged on his pallet, almost like he was doing yoga, and began to do breathing exercises, which enabled him to go deep within his mind and wall off certain parts of it, because though she didn't know it yet, Zelena's ownership of the dagger enabled her to link to his mind, and feel some of his emotions and hear some of his thoughts.

But he had determined long before this day that if somehow the dagger fell into the wrong hands, he would be able to prevent his total submission by using certain mental techniques, and compartmentalizing his mind. He carefully created small boxes within his mind, and placed certain feelings and thoughts within them, thoughts and feelings that he did not wish her to be privy to, especially those concerning Belle. Then he buried the boxes deep within his psyche, where no one but he could find them again.

Then he brought himself out of his trance and yawned. The sky was slowly returning to normal, but Zelena wasn't back yet. Sighing, he lay down on his pallet. He might as well get some sleep now, so he would be ready to play some more games when she returned.

He closed his eyes, thinking, _oh, Zelena, you jealous little twit, you think you command me, you think you know me, but you are so mistaken, dearie. And you'll learn that little fact one day . . .when you least expect it._

He fell asleep and dreamed . . .

_He was back in the Enchanted Forest, but not as the Dark One, but as the simple spinner he had once been, using his staff to walk along with Bae, but not Bae as he had been the last time he'd held him in his arms, but Bae as a child. Bae as the harum scarum boy he'd watched grow and loved to bits and pieces even when the boy drove him crazy running all over._

_As he did now, running ahead down a path and calling, "Follow me, Papa!"_

_"Bae! Wait! You shouldn't run so far ahead of me!" he called, limping after his son as quickly as he could. "Bae! Come back! You could get lost!"_

_Bae glanced over his shoulder, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "No I won't, Papa! Because . . . all you have to do is . . . follow the yellow brick road!"_

_Rumple frowned. "Follow the yellow brick road?"_

_"Follow the yellow brick road, Papa!" Bae giggled. "And you'll find your way home!"_

_Rumple limped faster, and the dirt track beneath his feet suddenly became a paved road made of golden bricks. He now found he could run, and he did, running as swiftly as he could after his scapegrace son. "Baelfire! Don't you run away from me!"_

_Bae grinned and skipped a little ahead of him. _

_But then he shrank back as a black figure on a broom flew in front of him._

_"I'll get you, my pretty!" cackled Zelena._

_Bae screamed in fear. "Help! Papa!"_

_Rumple drew himself up and put out a hand. "I'll save you, Bae!"_

_Then the witch was blown backwards across the sky._

_Bae giggled and clapped his hands._

_Then he was in Rumple's arms, being held tight against him. "You saved me, Papa!"_

_Rumple grinned and kissed the top of his precious son's head. "Yes, dearie. I'll always save you, Bae. No matter what. I'll always save you . . ."_

He woke with tears on his cheeks and his hands clutching empty air. "Oh, Bae," he whispered, recalling with a sharp pang that he hadn't made good on that promise yet. _But I will. I'll save you, Bae. Because that's what a good father does._

The rich smell of baking pastry and savory meat and spices wafted to his nostrils. He inhaled the delectable aroma and wondered if he were still dreaming. _Follow the yellow brick road, Papa._

Rumple sat up, his mouth watering. The smell took him back to his childhood, to a time when he was still mostly innocent and hopeful, and he sighed, waiting for Zelena to return and release him from the cage. Then he would put phase two of his plan into action.


	7. All's Fair in Love and War

**7**

**All's Fair in Love and War**

When Zelena came to unlock the cage door, Gold was already on his feet, having straightened himself up as best he could, though in actuality he wasn't quite the wrinkled hobo he appeared, since he was wearing the clothing Belle had brought him yesterday and not the suit Zelena thought he was in.

Zelena appeared wearing a slinky green dress that hugged her tall frame and accentuated all her curves, especially her bosom, which appeared to be almost falling out of the velvet dress. She also had on killer spiked boots that went up to her thighs.

Gold nearly swallowed his tongue. Not because he found her attractive, but because she looked like a call girl trying to impress a client. Or a cheap tramp looking for a good time. Unfortunately, that good time was him. He quieted the revulsion he was feeling with a quick mental picture of Belle in her elegant blue dress, and when he lifted his head, he managed a small appreciative grin.

"You look . . . stunning, Mistress," he murmured. _Don't try to flaunt it, dearie, if you haven't got it._

Zelena tossed her chestnut curls and simpered. "You are too kind, my dear Dark One." She gestured and the cage door opened. "Since you were a good boy, Rumple, now you get to come out and play!"

_Lah dee dah!_ He thought sarcastically as he shuffled out of the cage. "Thank you, Mistress."

She gestured again and his suit was suddenly pressed and clean. "Call me Zelena, Rumple . . . just for tonight," she purred, trying to sound sultry and alluring.

_Caught a cold there, dearie?_ "Yes, Mis—I mean, Zelena," he said humbly, lowering his eyes to her shoes. _Cheap knock-offs. _

"Oh, Rumple! Don't be such a stiff!" she giggled. "Come on, come into the dining room and see what I made for you!" she grabbed his hand and towed him from the room.

Gold felt like he was being led to the gallows . . . by a bouncy five-year-old who wanted to show him her fingerpainting. _You have to eat whatever the hell she made,_ he reminded himself. _And act like you're having the time of your life. You can puke up your insides afterwards._ He just prayed that what she cooked was semi-edible. Because the last thing he needed was a bout of food poisoning.

The dining room was papered in a cool mint green color, which made Gold think about ice cream, and the table was set for two, with a flaky golden crusted pie in the center of the table, with a knife and a pie server next to it. There was also a salad and beside the plates were two glasses filled with red wine.

Gold eyed them thoughtfully. _Never look a gift horse in the mouth._

He moved then, and held out her chair for her, like a proper gentleman.

"Why thank you, Rumple," she cooed, giving him a look like one might give a well-trained monkey. "You do have nice manners . . . for a beast."

"I learned that from my mother," he returned, pushing her chair in. _Tit for tat, greenie._

Zelena stiffened. "How nice." She waved a hand at his place, which was across from her. "Well, sit down, before the food gets cold."

He walked over to his place and sat down. The last thing he wanted was for it to grow cold, since it was much harder to get down cold inedible food than hot inedible food any day of the week.

Zelena leaned over the table to cut the first piece of the meat pie, and Gold got an eyeful of her assets.

He fought to keep from asking, _glamour yourself much, Zelena?_ For he could tell they weren't quite . . . natural, though anyone else would have been fooled . . . or distracted by them. _I've seen better, dearie. A hundred times better._ But he made his eyes go wide and he put a vacuous grin on his face, like some stupid teenage boy with his first crush.

Zelena cut a triangle and scooped it up and then plopped it down on his plate. "There! Your reward for behaving, Rumple. Now you can taste the first bite, like you used to when you lived with those spinsters."

"Lovely, dearie!" He waited until she had served herself before picking up his fork and trying it.

"Well? How is it?" she asked eagerly.

"It's . . . indescribable," he replied, fighting not to spit it out. He reached for his glass of wine and gulped some. It muted the taste a bit and moistened his throat so he could swallow. "Mmm . . . and it tastes so much better with this wine."

"Well, you know what they say . . . everything does," she smirked, and then sprinkled pepper on her piece before eating it. "Hmm . . . this is better than I thought."

_Then you must be accustomed to eating cat food,_ he thought glumly, and manfully swallowed another bite.

Halfway through the meal, he excused himself to go to the bathroom, saying sheepishly, "It's the wine . . . goes right through me."

She waved him off, saying, "Come back right away, Rumple."

He gritted his teeth at the command, but just nodded, slipping off to the bathroom, where he quickly gargled with mouthwash after chugging down Pepto Bismol in the medicine cabinet. Once his insides had been placated, he returned to her side to play the infatuated servant again, hoping to get close enough to her to find out where she had the dagger. She seemed to favor carrying it like a security blanket, but where she had put it in that dress was a mystery.

He returned to the table to find Zelena pouring herself another glass of wine. "Like that, do you, my lady?" he queried gallantly. _Because heavn knows you need something to rinse that vile taste out of your mouth. Blech! I've eaten tree bark that tasted better!_

"It's very good, Rumple. You ought to have some more," Zelena told him, and leaned over and topped off his glass.

"That's enough," he said, holding up a hand. "I don't drink a lot." But he picked up his glass and sipped.

"Oh, why not? You need to live a little, Rumple," she drained her glass and slammed it on the table. Then she poured herself another. "My, that pie made me thirsty." She licked her lips over the rim of the glass.

He sipped some more wine, thinking this must be what it was like to attend a frat party. Terrible food, worse company, and lots of alcohol. He had barely finished a third of his glass when Zelena finished the bottle.

He set the glass down just as a rather tipsy witch sauntered over to him, nearly stepping on his toes with her monster high heeled boots. "You want something, Zelena?" he asked, giving her a brief once-over.

She came and put her hands on his shoulders. "Rumple . . . you really need to . . . loosen up . . ." her hands began undoing his tie while she pressed up against him.

"Anything you say, dearie," he made his voice a low hum, then used the golden opportunity she presented to pat her down, moving his hands up and down her leisurely.

"That's right! _Anything I say!_" she giggled and hiccupped, laying her head on his shoulder. "Ooh . . . I like it when you do that . . . touch me, Rumple . . ."

"With pleasure," he half-groaned, giving her bottom a rather hard tap. _Dammit, where the hell is it? How can she hide it in a dress like this?_ He moved his hands down lower, trying to feel if she had a leg sheath on under that dress. Or in her boot?

He sighed in resignation when she began to unbutton his shirt. "Umm . . . why don't we go over to the couch, love? It's more . . . comfortable there," he suggested. _And I won't be breathing the fumes from your mouth every minute or supporting your whole weight either. _

Zelena turned . . . and almost tripped. She saved herself by grabbing Rumple's arm. "Whoops! I'm a little bit . . . clumsy!"

"Let me help you," he said solicitously, and took her arm, leading her to the couch. Then he got another idea and turned her away from him. "Just a moment. I'd like to . . . admire the view."

"And there's a lot to . . . admire!" she squealed.

_OMG, I've got Zelena fever!_ He thought mockingly, running his hands down her, trying desperately to feel where she'd put the dagger.

Zelean moaned and rubbed her backside up against him.

_God, she's like a cat in heat!_ "Hey, dearie . . . let's not get carried away here," he chuckled softly, then he lifted her up and put her on the couch, thinking he had to figure out a way to feel her boots, for it must be hidden in there.

Zelena giggled and crawled over to him, in a _very_ amorous mood. It was plain the wine brought out her uninhibited side . . . or maybe this was a side she had all along and was just showing it now.

Next thing he knew, she was in his _lap_, and giggling and trying to smooch him. "Rumple . . . you know . . . at first I thought you were an old guy, but now . . . now I see you're a _hot_ guy too . . . and you have magic . . . and . . . and power . . . and you're like a dream come true. . ."

"That's nice, dearie," he groaned, trying to avoid her lips. "Maybe you can have another dream . . . one that _doesn't_ involve me?" _Gods, do I have desperate bad boy tattooed on my ass or something for everyone to see? Why is it that I attract these crazy witches? I'm not even wearing my leather pants, for the gods' sake!_

"No . . . I just want you to . . . touch me . . . and hold me . . ."

"Uh huh," he resolutely shifted her around until he had her foot in his lap. "My, this is such a . . . nicely crafted boot, dearie," he crooned, as he felt his way up it.

"Isn't it? I had them made special," she tittered, her hand tugging his hair.

He moved his hand over to her other boot, but again the result was the same . . . the dagger was not on her person.

_Blast and damn! What a time for her to play hide the knife!_ He swore softly.

Zelena wriggled upon his lap, her hands touching him initmately, making him feel like a barmaid getting groped and pinched by her clientele. "Rumple . . . why won't you hold me?" she pouted.

"Well . . . err . . ." he realized then that he was going to have to pretend to be interested her just a bit in order to convince her she could let her guard down around him. So he hugged her and murmured, "You're . . . very . . . intoxicating, Zelena . . . but there was something I was wondering . . . that emerald you wear . . . it's quite . . . attractive . . . . where did you get it?"

Zelena hiccupped, and twirled the emerald in front of his nose. "You mean thish?" she asked, slurring just a bit.

"That's right. What's the story behind it? Did your mama leave it with you when she . . err . . . left you as a baby?" he probed.

"Umm . . . no . . . the necklace . . . was a gift . . . from my teacher . . . the Wicked Witch of the East . . . when I completed my 'prenticeship . . . so . . . so . . . I could offset . . . my . . . weakness . . ." she told him . . .then she kissed his ear sloppily.

Rumple grimaced. He'd liked getting licked by dogs more. "And what's that?"

"Uh . . . my affinity's Fire . . . so . . . I hate Water, it can undo me. . . no baths for me . . ." she began to yodel.

Rumple winced. "I can tell," he muttered. He shifted, half-shoving her off his lap. "Zelena . . . you're sort of . . . out of it right now . . . and . . . err . . . I need to . . . umm . . . get a drink so . . ." He started to get up, figuring in her inebriated state, she wouldn't notice he was gone and he could search for the dagger.

Suddenly, her hand shot out and grabbed his arm. "Noooo! You _can't_ leave! Everybody leaves me!" she started sobbing. "Stay here!"

"I . . . ah . . ." he swore roundly in his head as the compulsion took hold of him.

He reluctantly turned and came back to the couch, where he endured a drunken sniveling witch who hung all over him and got snot all over his suit. He awkwardly patted her back and she cuddled in his arm and laid her head on his chest.

Rumple cast his eyes heavenward and wondered if the gods of night were having a joke at his expense. A very big one.

Now he was stuck on the couch, with a passed out drunken witch who was _drooling_ all over his arm, and he longed to run screaming out of the room. He almost wished he was back in the cage, instead of sitting here.

He thought about taking off the emerald, but quickly discarded that notion. She would notice and there was no way he could hide it in his cage. Though perhaps, just perhaps, he could nullify its protection somewhat. He set a hand upon it, and concentrated.

His magic flowed through it, and negated some of the protections on it, though not all of them, for she would sense the difference if he did that. But enough so that she would be vulnerable to water.

Now perhaps she would be more open to a sneak attack by Regina or Emma . . . or both of them. He also thought of something else . . . a trick to enable Belle to get the dagger away from Zelena. But he needed to get off this damned couch first!

He nudged the snoring witch.

Zelena grunted and snuffled like a suckling pig but didn't wake up.

Rumple spent a miserable two hours trapped on the couch until the inebriated witch woke up and blinked blearily at him. "Mistress . . . Zelena . . . will you let—" he began.

"Y'know . . . I don't feel so good . . ."

He stared at her, alarmed. "No . . . don't you dare—!"

Too late.

She puked all over him.

"Ah, gods!" he groaned, wrinkling his nose for now he was covered in disgusting vomit. "This is worse than when Bae was a baby and he spit up on me. Ugh!" He attempted to wriggle away from her.

Her nails suddenly dug into his arm and she growled, "It's not my fault! Now get the hell back in your cage, Rumpleshtilshkin! Y'hear me! Back . . . to . . . your . . . cage!"

And before he could protest, he was whisked back into his cage by her magical command, still covered in vomit.

Scowling, he managed to remove his shirt and put on the other one Belle had given him. The dirty one he vanished, then he sank onto his pallet and started to meditate. As he did so, he discovered a reddish hair upon his pant leg.

He plucked it up and placed it in his pocket. Who knew when it might come in handy?

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The next morning, while crews went around town trying to assist those whose homes and businesses had been damaged by the tornados, and Regina posted updates on the news about still keeping a watch out for Zelena, there were more bizarre happenings occurring.

The harbor was suddenly swamped by a monster wave that washed away part of the pier and docks, then it became swelteringly hot and the water began to recede, showing the sandy bottom of the ocean floor. The fishermen gaped at this phenomenon and made the sign against dark magic. There were mutterings that the witch had caused it.

An hour later, the water came back—colored an ominous red, and when one fisherman dipped a hand in to test it, discovered it wasn't water . . . but blood.

This elicited screams and horrified documentation of this terrible occurance . . . and more rumors of how it was like the end of days, given all the strange and awful happenings of late.

"The witch has cursed us."

"This whole town is cursed."

"No, this isn't her doing . . . it's the wrath of the gods because we've let her live."

"We need to rid ourselves of her . . . but how?"

That was, of course, the million dollar question.

And now the townsfolk looked to their leaders to provide an answer . . . and as yet, they didn't have one, though Regina assured them they were all working on getting rid of her . . . it was just . . . difficult.

While Storybrooke sweltered in a heat wave similar to one that usually happened in the deep South, Belle decided to visit Rumple again, fearing what might have occurred in her absence to him.

She dressed in a light summer-weight dress of flowing purple, and wore Gucci sandals. Putting on her cloak was almost like putting on a shroud, but she forced herself to do so, since it was the only thing that kept her hidden from Zelena and her spies—the flying monkeys.

She climbed into the window of the house Zelena had commandeered, and counted herself lucky to find the room empty of all save Rumple, who was dozing on his pallet. Using Rumple's ring, she unlocked the cage and went inside.

"Rumple," she called softly.

Belle's soft voice penetrated the hazy mist that encased his mind, and Rumple woke.

"Hello, dearie," he greeted her, concealing a yawn behind a hand. "What time is it?"

Belle checked her watch. "Around 8:30 AM. I thought it best if I came early. Is she here?"

Rumple snorted. "I'd say so. And probably nursing the devil of a hangover from last night."

"What happened last night? She got drunk?" Belle began to unpack the basket she had brought, handing him some fresh clothes and some porridge she had made and warmed with magic, as well as some bacon on a plate and coffee.

As he ate hungrily, he told Belle everything that had gone on.

"Rumple, I'm so sorry you have to . . . endure her," she said sincerely.

"I do what I have to," he responded honestly. "Last night was . . . difficult for me, but . . . I did learn one important thing . . . and got this," he plucked the hair from his pocket and gave it to her.

"Oh, good!" Belle exclaimed. "Now I can give this to Regina so she can make that potion . . . the one that will tell her if Zelena really is her half-sister. Even though Lumiere said it wasn't necessary . . ."

"Lumiere?"

"Yes, you know . . . the wizard who Zelena transformed into a candelabra," Belle went on to explain who Lumiere was.

Rumple frowned. "Belle . . . be careful. This Lumiere may _say_ he wishes to help us and perhaps he does . . . but never forget that if he _is_ her father, he can't be trusted. Not totally. Because no matter what she's done, she's still his daughter . . . and no father wants his daughter dead . . .trust me on that one. Unless he's insane, and he didn't strike me as that type."

"Then you think he might . . . betray us? But look what she did to him!" Belle objected.

"I know, dearie. And he's probably mad as hell at her for it. I know I would be. But angry or not, I doubt if he wants to see his daughter executed for her crimes, no matter how much he knows she deserved it," Rumple sighed. "So . . . be careful what you say around him, Belle. His loyalty to us may only extend so far."

"I will, Rumple," she reassured him. Then she came and hugged him. "Rumple . . . would True Love's Kiss break the dagger's hold on you?"

"It might . . . if things were different," Rumple acknowledged. "But since I've . . . returned . . .I've noticed . . . that I tend to sleep much more than I used to . . . I think it's a side effect of the tainted rebirth . . .and there are times I feel . . . disconnected, like I'm not all there . . .I don't know why, but I do know that things are different this time around, and not just because I'm Zelena's prisoner. So I don't think a kiss will break my curse, Belle. I think we'll have to wait."

Belle sighed. "But at least we know one of her weaknesses now . . . and why the hose didn't melt her during the duel."

"True. But water will hurt her now, thanks to my weakening of her emerald. And I've also thought of a way to retrieve the dagger . . ."

"Rumple, that's brilliant! I think . . . I need to talk with Emma and Regina . . . Robin too. Will they know how to do what we have to?"

"There's a spell that they can cast in the Booke of Night With Moon. All you need to do is read it to them," Rumple instructed.

"Then I'm the only one who can see what's written in there?"

"Yes. I enchanted it that way, so even if it fell into the wrong hands, the only ones able to read it were me and you. Because I trust you not to misuse the spells in there."

"Regina was so angry she couldn't read it," Belle recalled.

He shrugged. "Like I said, the book is too dangerous for just anyone to have access to it, and while Regina seems to have made some strides towards becoming a better person, I can't risk her being tempted by some of those dark spells. Only someone who understands the Balance between Light and Dark can use the book safely. Regina isn't there yet. But you understand it, Belle."

"I do. Because I love you, Rumple. Even when you're the Dark One, and cursed," Belle stated, then she reached for him and kissed him hard.

He wrapped his arms about her and drew her to him, kissing her with all the repressed passion within his love starved heart, his mouth coaxing and demanding by turns. Having her with him, her hands holding him close, reminded him that he was more than he appeared, that despite all the darkness he bore, there was still that core of goodness within him, that shone despite everything he had been and done. He was a dark sorcerer who loved a pure woman, and love was hope, it fueled his dreams . . . dreams that included the wish that someday they could be together . . . as man and wife . . . freed from the onus of his cursed existence . . . and once more the good man he had been.

But first he needed to save Baelfire. And to do that he had to defeat Zelena. By being one step ahead of her and outsmarting her.

Reluctantly he drew back from his beloved librarian. "Belle . . . you need to go. She's awake, I feel it. You have to go and give Regina the hair and remember what I told you . . ."

"I won't forget, Rumple. I just wish . . . we had more time together instead of these moments stolen here and there."

"So do I. But sweetheart, we'll have all the time in the world once Zelena is defeated. That much I can promise you. Show them the spell, and see if Hood will agreed to what we need him to do. Tell him . . . tell him it could be payment of the debt he owes me for curing his wife with my stolen wand."

"Rumple, I doubt he needs to make a deal with you to do what we want," Belle remonstrated with him.

"Maybe. And maybe not. I don't know why he'd do anything for me otherwise," Rumple sighed. "So, if he needs convincing . . . tell him that, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed, then she kissed him again before she shouldered her basket and made her way out of the cage and locked it.

Rumple watched her leave, his gaze wistful and longing.

Once she had climbed out the window to safety, he turned and dressed in the new clothes she had brought, shaved and emptied the basin into his bucket, and put the meal bars and shakes beneath his pallet.

He was spinning when Zelena came into the room, all bleary and her eyes bloodshot. He looked up and saw her, then hummed a few bars of "Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy."

"What the hell are _you_ so cheerful about?" she groused.

"Rough night, dearie?"

"What do _you_ think?" she glared at him.

"I think next time you ought to not drink so much. Then you won't suffer the next morning," he answered sagely.

"Shut up! When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it!" she snapped. She held her head in her hand. Then she unlocked the cage. "Get out here and make me something for my headache. And some breakfast."

He obeyed, thinking irritably, _what do I look like, your mama?_ Then he went into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet, finding some aspirin inside.

"Take these with a glass of water. Swallow them, don't chew," he ordered, giving her them.

"What is this?"

"Medicine. They're called aspirin," he informed her. Then he went into the kitchen to cook some eggs, toast, and ham from what was in the refrigerator.

He just hoped Belle and the others moved their ass, because they were running out of time. And he was heartily sick of playing servant and maid to this spoiled hussy.

**A/N: Who felt sorry for Rumple here? And what do you think his scheme is to get the dagger away from Zelena with the others help?**


	8. Playing With Fire

**8**

**Playing With Fire**

Belle hurried over to 108 Mifflin Street before she went back to the shop to find the spell Rumple had spoken to her about. Her heart was as heavy as a stone within her breast, thinking about Rumple having to endure that . . . _creature . . . _Belle wouldn't even give her the title of _woman_ after what she had done to Rumple, Bae, and wanted to do to Snow's baby. Nothing in Zelena's past excused what she had done, or was going to try and do, at least in Belle's mind. The Wicked Witch was clearly twisted and filled with selfishness and jealousy and used the issue of Cora abandoning her to fuel her need for power and hate. But that was an excuse, and not a very good one, Belle thought angrily. Plenty of other people had bad childhoods, like Emma and even Bae after he'd fallen through the portal, and they didn't think murdering infants and cursing bunches of people and trapping a man in a cage and treating him worse than a dog was justified so long as it got them what they felt they deserved.

_But not this time. This time I'll see that you pay for what you've done . . . because nobody puts my Rumple in a cage! And no matter what kind of life you lived, that's no excuse for harming innocent people! _Clutching the hair to her, Belle walked swiftly up the walk to the mayor's house and rang the bell.

Regina opened the door. "Belle! Come in!" she invited.

Belle stepped cautiously inside, for a part of her didn't trust the mayor. . . not after what she had endured at Regina's hands in the name of her own revenge on Rumplestiltskin. To her astonishment, she saw a little boy's toys scattered on the floor behind the mayor. "Were you . . . err . .. having company? If I interrupted something, I can come back later."

"No, don't mind the mess. Roland, that's Robin's little boy, was playing over here, and now he's in the backyard playing catch with his father," Regina waved her hand at the toys, and they were put neatly against the wall.

Belle's eyebrows rose into her hair at that declaration. So that's the way the wind blows, she thought. Then she focused on the whole reason she had come. "I got this for you. It's one of Zelena's hairs. So you can complete that potion. And another thing . . ." Belle told Regina about Lumiere and also part of Rumple's plan to retrieve the dagger, but only the part where they would need Robin's help. She had decided that Emma would be the one to cast the spell they needed, because out of the two magic workers, Emma was the one she trusted more, and also it was Emma who had the greatest stake in bringing Bae back to life. "So . . . do you think he'll do it?"

"Well, I can ask him. He _is_ a pickpocket, so I don't see why he couldn't," Regina shrugged. "And considering what we all face unless we bring her down . . ."

"Good. Please ask him. And if . . . if he hesitates, remind him that Rumple did save his wife's life . . . first because Robin used his wand on her, and second because he spared her life when he could have killed her," Belle reminded the queen. "I'll have what you need . . . hopefully by tonight or tomorrow."

"Better hurry. Something up there is getting mighty angry," Regina frowned. "I've had more reports of . . . odd happenings all over town. One woman called screaming that her faucet was spitting out worms and another that hundreds of fruit flies had invaded her kitchen. Some farmer's pig gave birth to a two headed baby and one of the heads had a . . . goat's horns like a demon's. Luckily it died an hour afterwards. Another man stated that his pear tree altered overnight . . . and instead of growing pears it was growing kidneys!"

"Ugh! That's terrible!" Belle shuddered just thinking about it. "Rumple was right. The signs are getting worse."

"And we have what . . . four days now? Three?" Regina shook her head. "We'd better do something quick, because I don't want to be destroyed because of something my wackadoo sister did. _If_ she is who she says she is." She tucked the hair into her pocket. "But then . . . we'll see."

"Regina . . . does the potion tell you who her father is too? I know Lumiere says she's his daughter but . . . he could be lying."

"Yes. It reveals who both parents are," Regina replied. "I'll call you when I get the results, Belle. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to make a snack for my guests. And finish that potion."

"And I have to get back to the shop," Belle said, then bid Regina goodbye and went out the door.

Once back at the pawnshop, she lit up Lumiere and asked the candelabra what he knew about spells to replicate an object.

Lumiere explained that such spells were not that difficult to perform . . . provided one knew exactly what one was replicating . . . and that it couldn't be done with food. "Gods alone know that Zelena tried it with me a dozen times . . . trying to make something my second wife, her foster mother Myra, had cooked. Because I couldn't cook anything complex to save my hide and neither could she, and no matter how many times I told her it wasn't possible to replicate food, she tried anyhow." Lumiere grimaced. "And the results . . . looked and smelled fine but they tasted horrible! Like garbage or worse . . . because magic can do a lot, but it can't make food from nothing! But try telling my stubborn daughter that!" He shook his head. "She always had to learn the hard way . . . and sometimes not even then!"

Belle wondered if that was what she had done to poor Rumple last night—made him eat something she'd tried to replicate. It seemed likely . . . especially given what Lumiere had told her. It would certainly be easier than the witch actually trying to cook something herself.

"But you _can_ replicate objects," she repeated. "Even magical ones?"

"Oh, yes. Only . . . they won't have the magic of the original, of course. They'll only look alike," Lumiere answered.

"That's good enough. How long does it take to . . . cast something like that?"

"Well, it all depends. On who casts it and what you're trying to replicate. Something simple, like say—a coin, would only take a brief moment, something harder, like a dress, might take ten minutes."

"I see," Belle nodded. "Thank you for helping me, Lumiere. Rumple has told me that . . . when he's free of the witch's control he'll release you from this shape."

"Ah, good! Because I am getting tired of it," the former wizard smirked.

Belle blew out the candles then, sending Lumiere back to sleep. For now she was going to peruse the Booke of Night With Moon, and she didn't want Lumiere to see what she was doing.

About twenty minutes later, she had found the spell she needed, and written it down for Emma. Then she dialed Emma at the station . . . and found she was away from her desk. Belle sighed and left a message, hoping to hear back from her soon.

A few moments later her cell rang. She picked it up and said, "Hello?"

"Belle, it's Regina. I have the test results. She is my half-sister . . . her parents are Cora and that Lumiere person, a wizard from Oz. It figures! Just my luck to have a whack job sibling! Anyway, Robin's said he'll do what you want . . . and no reminders are necessary. He says that no one deserves to be treated the way Rumple has, especially by that green bitch."

"I'm glad, Regina! Now . . . I simply have to do one more thing," Belle said happily.

"Well, hurry up about it. Or else we're all gonna die," Regina reminded, then she hung up.

Belle bit her lip and stared at her phone. She wished Emma would hurry and call her back.

Her cell rang. "Hello, Emma?"

"Hey, Belle. What's up?"

"Emma, I need you to come over to the shop. I've found a way we can retrieve the dagger from Zelena, but I need your help."

"On my way."

"Wait. You need to know the secret code," Belle began.

"Secret code? What are you channeling Henry?" she joked.

Belle laughed. "He's smart, Emma. And it was the best thing I could think of to identify friend from foe, so . . ." she told Emma the secret code, then hung up.

Ten minutes later, Emma knocked on the door.

"So, how are your parents holding up?" Belle asked after she had let the sheriff inside.

"Okay. Dad's fretting over Mom and Mom's getting annoyed, but then, she's almost ready to deliver so her patience is wearing thin. But I've put up the same kind of protection spells that Gold taught me last time when he was dying from Hook's poison. I just hope they keep her away from my family."

"If not, make sure you have a bucket of water handy."

"But Regina sprayed her with a fire hose and it didn't do much to her. Except make her mad."

"That was then. But now Rumple's weakened the protection on her emerald pendant," Belle explained. "And here' s the other reason I wanted you to come over. I've found a spell to replicate the dagger."

Emma's eyes widened. "That's why you called me? You want me to cast this spell? But . . . I'm not . . . I mean Regina's probably a better choice . . ."

"No. Who's lost more? You or her? Who wants to get revenge on Zelena more?" Belle countered.

"Well . . . me. For Neal and for Rumple . . . but what I really want is justice, not so much revenge. Though I'd like to break her jaw first," Emma asserted, her eyes flashing.

"And that's why you need to be the one to do it," Belle said quickly.

"Okay . . . but first . . . can I see Neal?"

"Sure," Belle led the way down to the basement. "I put him on a bed, because I didn't think it was right to just leave him on the floor like an old sock."

"Thanks for that," Emma said gratefully when she saw that Neal was lying comfortably on a bed with a blanket around him. "Rumple was right to send him here." She approached the bed, and knelt and took Neal's hand.

Her finger stroked his hand, which was roughed from weather and work, and still bore that awful brand upon his palm. The mark of a sacrifice he'd been forced to participate in. "Hey," she whispered, speaking into his ear. "I don't know if you can hear me or not, but . . . I just want you to know I haven't forgotten about you. I'm doing everything I can to help bring you back . . . so we can have our Tallahassee together, Neal . . . just like you wanted . . . you, me, and Henry." Emma blinked hard, for tears were forming in her eyes. "And maybe we ought to include your dad in that too . . . because I'm sure he needs some time with you and Henry once this is done."

Her hand stroked his unruly black hair, recalling how she had loved doing that to him when they were dating. "So . . . you just . . . hang in there and keep dreaming or whatever. Because I'm going to save you, Neal. I'm the savior, that's what I do. I saved Henry and I broke this curse and dammit, I'm going to save you. Gold was right. Family is the most important thing. And you're mine. You always have been, even when I was too mad to see it. I love you. Sweet dreams."

Then she leaned over and kissed him, one single brief kiss, for hope, for love, and to remind him that she would always fight for him.

She drew back, and dashed a hand over her eyes. Then she tucked the blanket more securely about her sleeping beloved and rose to her feet.

"Okay, Belle. Show me what I have to do."

As she followed Belle back up to the main floor of the shop, she glanced back once at his sleeping form . . . and could have sworn she saw him smiling.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

While Belle and Emma attempted to replicate the dagger, a process which took far longer than expected due to Emma fledgling skills in magic, despite her desperation and need to save Neal and Belle's encouragement, several citizens of Storybrooke were dealing with another unexpected and unwelcome manifestation of the dark gods' wrath.

A plague of roaches.

Roaches suddenly appeared everywhere in people's homes, on the sidewalk, all over their cars, you couldn't walk outside without stepping on them, they were all over . . . crawling . . . jumping . . . and hopping. Women and kids ran screaming out of their homes, only to find the roaches were outside too and there was no escape.

Storybrooke Pest Control was flooded with more calls than they could handle, and the mayor's office in city hall was echoing with dozens upon dozens of phone calls from frantic citizens.

It was like the end of days had come to Storybrooke.

Rumple was spinning as usual in his cage when he heard the frantic screams and half-stood up, trying to see out of the window. But all he could see was part of a tree and . . . something black crawling up the window pane. He frowned. It looked like a bug . . . no, several of them.

"AHHHHH!"

The most hair-raising scream was heard from the other room of the house. Rumple froze, wondering if someone had broken in and murdered Zelena.

But his hopes were dashed when the witch appeared in the room, her hair sticking up and her eyes wild, running for dear life.

"Help! Oh gods! They're all over! Rumple! They're all over the kitchen! Get them out!"

"Get what out? What's all over, your newest culinary disaster?"

"Roaches! Roaches are in my house!" she screamed hysterically.

The cage door popped open and Zelena rushed into the cage . . . and jumped into Rumple's arms as he sat at the wheel. She grabbed him in a choke hold and screeched, "Get rid of them, Rumple!"

He almost went deaf. Then he smirked and said, "You're afraid of . . . roaches? You're the Wicked Witch of the West and you're afraid of little bugs?" He giggled softly.

"Stop laughing! It's _not_ funny! We've been . . . infested and I am _not_ going out there until they're all gone! Now get rid of them!"

"Okay, dearie! Just let go of me, it's kind of hard to cast when you're throttling me," he grimaced. _And now you have snot on my jacket again! What do I look like—your own private hankie?_

Zelena unwound her arms from about his neck and stood up. "I hate bugs!"

"I can see that," Rumple said, then he concentrated and gestured, removing all the roaches from the house. "It's a sign, you know. Of doomsday."

Zelena rolled her eyes. "Doomsday! You sound like one of those two-bit prophets on a street corner, prating about the end of the world coming! It's not happening, Rumple! I'm going to make myself immortal and then . . .. then we'll have the best time. Because, you see, I've grown quite . . . fond of you, Rumple-kins!" she batted her lashes and him and chucked him under the chin.

Rumple wanted to throw up. Instead he smiled at her. "Oh, Mistress!"

"So I've decided not to kill you and become the Dark One. I thought about doing that at first, but then I decided it was more challenging to do it this way . . . and I've always liked my men hot, dark, and black-souled! And when I'm immortal, we'll reign together-wicked and Dark One. Won't that be fun?"

"It'll be . . . splendid!" Rumple answered, swallowing the bile in his throat. "And here I thought you only needed my mind."

"I do! And now I want the rest of you!" she squealed, like a hormonal teenager with her first crush on an adult man.

_Why me? Dear gods, why me? It's not bad enough I'm under her control, now she's going to make me her . . . sex toy? Somebody stab me!_ "You know, dearie . . . I'm sort of . . . old . . ." he coughed, turning red. "And while I'm flattered you like me . . . err . . . sometimes I . . . err . . . have difficulties . . . umm . . . I'm sure you know what I'm talking about . . ."

She eyed him like a cat eyes a mouse. "Oh, you naughty boy! I can fix that! All I have to do is . . . command you!"

He shut his eyes. _Great! Now I'm the sex slave to a magical Paris Hilton wannabe! Can I die now? Please?_

In order to stave off any more lustful thoughts, he said quickly, "You know, you're standing right where I use the bathroom, since you refused to give me a toilet."

Zelena nearly turned green . . . in disgust. "Eeew! You're _disgusting_, Rumple!"

"Hey, _you_ did this, remember? It wasn't my idea."

She scowled. "Fine!" Then she gestured and a small toilet with a curtain appeared in the cage. "There! Happy now?"

"Delighted, my queen of green!" he purred. Then he reached for her and drew her into his arms.

"Let me go!" she yelped, squirming.

He looked shocked. "But why, Z-heart?" he asked, sounding hurt. "You wanted me to touch you all over last night."

"That was before! You're digusting and dirty and . . . you need a bath!" she cried. "Go and take one! I'm not sleeping with a . . . a stinking beast!"

"Yes, Mistress," he said quickly, releasing her. Inwardly he gloated that his ruse had worked, and he'd gotten two good things . . . of course he still needed to keep her away from him, but he'd consider what to do about that later.

Zelena stomped out of the cage, after cleaning her boots with a wave of her hand.

"You know, dearie, you keep scowling that way and your face will freeze like that," he remarked, thinking she behaved just like a child who didn't get her way. Pity he couldn't treat her like one, and paddle her ass, but he was forbidden to harm her. Until his dagger was retrieved, then he could teach Little Miss Wicked the _real_ error of her ways—Dark One style.

"Take a bath, Rumple!" she ordered, pointing. "Then we can discuss . . . other things."

He obeyed, wishing he could drown himself in the bathtub.

**Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break**

When he came out, he found she had provided him with clean clothing, though he shuddered to think she had been in the bathroom while he was taking a shower, and prayed she had just magicked the clothes into there. He _never_ wanted her to see him in any state of undress ever.

He decided to head off any more amorous entanglements she had planned and after dressing in the clothes she had given him, said, "Now why don't you make a sample potion, Mistress, so you're prepared when you get the final ingredient you need to make you immortal." Of course she would get that final ingredient—Snow's baby's heart—over his dead body, but he wasn't going to tell her that. "I'll help you, Mistress."

Zelena looked up at him. "Why would you do that?" she asked, a tad suspiciously.

"Why? Because I want you to be happy, Mistress. So . . . let's get out some ingredients and start brewing," he encouraged-anything so she wouldn't try and corner him and kiss him again . . . or anything else!

Zelena summoned several ingredients to her and got out a large cauldron, which she placed in the middle of the stove. She filled it half-way with water and then said, "Let me get the recipe."

She summoned the potion recipe to her and began to read it and prepare the ingredients.

Rumple watched avidly, and commented whenever he saw her doing anything . . . correcting her even when she was doing something right.

"You need to grind the mallow root finer, Mistress."

"You're not stirring the mixture vigorously enough."

"You forgot to chop up the heart and let it sit in the vinegar, Mistress."

After each correction, she would stop and try to obey him, until her potion finally started to boil over on the stove.

Frustrated to the nth degree, she snapped at him, "Will you quit telling me what to do? You're confusing me, dammit!"

He gave her an innocent look. "Forgive me, I was only trying to help," he said soothingly. "Perhaps I'm not explaining it well enough. Let me try again." He began speaking a voice one normally used with toddlers. "You . . . need . . . to lower . . . the heat . . . otherwise . . . you'll . . . burn yourself. And that would be a shame." _I'd stick your face on the fire itself if I could!_

She glared at him. "It's this recipe! It has too many steps! I thought I understood it, but now . . . oh, why can't I just throw everything together in the damned pot?"

His eyes widened and he smirked in glee behind a hand as she went and snatched the rest of the ingredients up and tossed them into the pot. "Uh, Mistress . . . I wouldn't do that if I were you . . ."

"Shut up, Rumple! You've never brewed this before, what do _you_ know?" she sneered.

_"_You're right, Mistress. I know nothing. I've learned nothing at all in the three hundred plus years I've been a sorcerer," he lisped, giggling softly.

She speared him with a look that should have reduced him to ash. "What the hell are you laughing at, imp?"

"Umm . . . nothing!"

Then the cauldron blew up.

The next sound in the kitchen was Zelena shrieking, "You stupid _asshole_!" and smacking Rumple across the face. "Why didn't you tell me it was going to blow up?"

Rumple flinched, pretending to be cowed, though in reality he wished he could slap her back. "You . . . you told me not to say anything!"

"Jackass!" she spat. "Now clean up this mess! And get me some more of those pills! Now I have a headache!" She went over to the fridge to get a can of soda and Rumple made a face behind her back and mouthed, "Now I have a headache!" Then gave her the finger.

As he began mopping up the mess he thought how he would give her a headache all right someday. A permanent one, if the gods were kind.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Emma sat back on her heels, exhausted, but triumphant. The replica of the dagger was finally finished. "Well? How's it look?"

Belle picked up what looked exactly like the Dark One's dagger. "It . . . it's perfect, Emma! I can't tell the difference."

The wavy knife had all the runes and sigils in place and even the name-Rumplestiltskin-was correctly scrolled across it.

Emma wiped sweat from her brow. After over two hours and ten or twelve facsimiles, she had finally gotten it right. "Thank heaven, Belle! I thought I'd never do it."

"You just have to believe, Emma. And you can do anything," Belle smiled and hugged her. "Or at least that's what Rumple always says."

"Yeah well, he was right." Emma admitted. "Now . . . when do we put Phase Three into action?"

"I don't know. We'll need to contact Regina and Robin again . . . and I need to tell Rumple what's going on too. We need to time it just right. Because once the switch is made . . . Rumple needs to be ready to fight her with everything he's got."

"Right. But for now . . . I think I need a nap . . . a long one!" Emma said. "And I'd better see how Henry is. He was supposed to be with my dad today, doing something."

"Well, go get some sleep," Belle urged her. "I'll keep this safe and do you want to call Regina or should I?"

"I'll do it," Emma yawned. "I'll stop by on my way home. You can tell Gold . . . that the game's afoot, okay?"

Belle raised an eyebrow. "You're quoting Sherlock now?"

"Yeah. Why not? This feels like something out of a Doyle novel . . . kind of. See you later, Belle."

Belle waved as Emma got into her Bug and left. Then she took the facsimile and hid it in the secret drawer of Gold's desk, which no one save herself and Rumple knew about.

She decided to eat something before trying to see Rumple again. She took out a turkey and cheddar sandwich she had gotten from Granny's, then heated up a can of soup on the electric burner and sat down at Gold's desk to eat.

But just as she was halfway through her meal, she heard a strange sound on the roof. When she got up to look out of the window in the front of the shop she saw it was hailing.

Biting back a swear word, Belle returned to the desk and finished her food. By the time she was done, however, it was hailing and snowing like crazy, and she knew the weather was too bad for her to risk going to Rumple right then. _Rumple, I'm so sorry. As soon as this weather lets up, I'm coming. Stay strong, my love. And soon you'll be free._

**A/N: Sorry guys, no Rumbelle this chapter, but at least there was some Swanfire, right? Also their plan's coming together! And there will be more Rumbelle next chapter! Thanks to Jamie Bing for thinking up the Rumple bedeviling her idea!**


	9. The Game's Afoot

**9**

**The Game's Afoot**

The sound of hail on the roof sent Rumple into a sort of doze back in the cage, it was almost like the pitter patter of raindrops. While he lay on his pallet, he decided to test his reinforced mindshields, to make sure Zelena didn't have access to his true thoughts and feelings. So he began to think, rather loudly, about counting sheep. _One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five . . .six . . . seven . . . eight . . . nine . . . ten . . ._

He had reached twenty before Zelena strode into the room, a look of extreme annoyance on her face, and yelled, "_Will_ you stop counting, dammit? I can't hear myself think!"

Rumple fought to keep from smirking. "Huh? Oh, sorry, Mistress. It's just . . . I can't fall asleep, the hail's keeping me awake, so . . . I'm counting sheep to make myself fall asleep. I don't mean to disturb you, dearie."

"Think of something else!" she growled. Then she stomped back into the other room.

So Rumple began to count goats in his head. _One little goat, two little goats, three little goats, four little goats, five little goats-heeheehaahaa. . ._

"Knock it off! I'm falling asleep over here!" came the witch's sharp reproof.

Rumple gave a soft giggle. _Guess I got her goat, all right!_

Then, because he couldn't count since she had forbidden it, he began to sing, a song practically written to drive someone crazy, "I'm Henry VIII I am, Henry VIII I am I am, I was married to the widow next door, she was married seven times before, I'm Henry VIII I am, Henry VIII I am, I am, second verse, same as the first, I'm Henry VIII I am—"

"_Rumplestiltskin!_ Shut up and go to sleep! Your caterwauling's driving me _crazy_!"

"Yes, Mistress. I was only trying to relax you," he called back contritely. Then he smirked like the devil himself. _I'm going to make you regret ever bringing me back, I am, I am . . ._ and he giggled in triumph before he snuggled down under his blanket.

When he closed his eyes he dreamed that he and Belle were walking hand in hand through the park, and he had a picnic basket slung over his arm, and she was giving him that soft sweet seductive smile he loved so well . . . in his sleep he smiled, for his only solace right now was in his dreams.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Two days remained until the gods destroyed Storybrooke in retribution for Zelena's unwilling sacrifice of Neal. That morning the hail ceased, leaving several inches of ice all over, and a cold snap that rivaled the Arctic Circle's temperatures. The sun also never really rose, but it remained a kind of grainy twilight. The phenomenon seriously alarmed the citizens of Storybrooke, who were afraid to venture outside in the icy conditions, and also afraid of the unnatural twilight that had occurred.

Belle phoned Regina, asking her when was the best time to bring something to her house. "It's important you get it right away, but . . . the weather conditions are terrible. I don't want to risk falling and breaking something."

"Don't worry. I'll be by to get it in half-an-hour. I'm working on another little surprise for our green friend and her monkey pets," Regina said.

"Like what?"

"Oh . . . I'm going to doctor a banana . . . and wait till her monkey friends eat it," the mayor chuckled.

"Regina, no! You can't do that! Some of those monkeys . . . are our people, changed into that form!" Belle gasped.

"Aww, hells! Okay, then I'll make sure only one monkey gets it . . . the one she always has with her, wearing that gold and green collar. I don't think that's one of our people, do you?"

"No. Lumiere says she has a special familiar, given to her by her tutor, and that's the first flying monkey. He's called Allizander."

"I don't care if he's the Amazing Wonderful Incredible Best Beloved Thing on Earth, I'm going to take him out," Regina said determinedly. "Let her see how it feels to want!"

"Okay . . . I guess," sighed Belle. She didn't really like harming innocent creatures, though she supposed that the monkey was probably not innocent any longer given who his mistress was. But she knew that Regina wouldn't be convinced otherwise, so she decided to save her breath. "I'll see you later."

She hung up and peered out the shop window, it looked like it was dusk, when the clock on the wall said it was nine AM. Belle shivered and wrapped Gold's Armani jacket about her nightie more securely. Despite the lights on in the shop, she felt as though she were being smothered in shadows, and she hated being afraid, and even more, trapped inside. She wanted to go and see Rumple, but the icy conditions made it impossible for her to travel.

Biting her lower lip to shreds, she went and fixed herself a cup of orange spice tea, which warmed her from the inside out. _Two more days . . . two more days till the world as we know it ends._

Somehow that didn't seem real. Didn't seem possible, even though Belle knew Rumple hadn't lied. But it was rather like hearing news from a doctor that you were terminally ill and had only three months to live. You went through a denial phase before it finally sank in and you had to accept it. Belle felt she was still experiencing that denial phase, and she rubbed a hand up and down Rumple's jacket, in an unconscious nervous gesture.

_Hurry up, Regina! Quit monkeying around and come here so you can get the replica and begin planning how your boyfriend's going to pull off the heist of the century! _

Belle set her cup—her chipped cup—down on the counter and walked over to a wooden clothes chest leaning against the wall. On impulse, she opened it and found an old gray cloak inside. It reminded her of an old TV cartoon show she had watched while in the hospital when she was amnesiac. It had been called _Dungeons and Dragons_ and there had been a girl named Sheila on it who had a magic cloak that could make her invisible . . . and she had been a thief . . .

Smiling, Belle swirled the cloak about her shoulders, and pulled up the hood.

She felt an odd coldness run through her.

When she looked at her feet, she couldn't see them anymore!

Startled, she stuck out a hand . . . and found that she couldn't see that either!

_Gods and hells! I'm invisible! Just like Sheila! Or Harry Potter!_ she gasped, for Harry had an invisibility cloak too. Experimentally, she pulled off the hood . . . and could see her hand and feet again.

"Awesome!" she cried, then she pulled up the hood and vanished again.

Taking off the cloak, she knew she had to give it to Regina as well, for it would be the only thing that would allow Robin to get close enough to make the swap . . . though Belle would be sure to be close by, so Robin could give the dagger to her as soon as he had procured it.

She folded the gray velvet cloak and placed it on top of the counter.

Then she went back to look in the trunk again, hoping she might find something else useful inside. She was puzzled, however, that Rumple had left a trunk with such a magical object right out in the shop where someone could find it, since he usually kept his magical objects locked away where only he or one he trusted could find them.

Her hand closed on the top of the lid and she tugged it down to examine it—and found a sigil she recognized stamped on the top of the trunk—a circle of inky darkness with a white crescent moon and three stars on the right side, which formed a triangle. It was a sigil she knew of from another book—the Booke of Night With Moon.

A book that Rumple had enchanted so that only he or one he trusted could read it.

Belle smiled. Clever Rumple! He must have enchanted the trunk as well . . . and only one he trusted could open it.

She placed the lid back up against the wall and knelt to examine the rest of its contents.

There was only one other item inside. A pair of soft gray suede half boots.

Belle picked them up and examined them. On the bottom of one boot, stamped into the leather sole, was an odd rune. Belle was uncertain what it meant, though it seemed vaguely familiar. "I wonder what it means?"

Then she shut the trunk.

She could always research the rune, but time was not on her side, and she suspected the boots could help her, if she knew what they did. And the only other person besides Rumple who could tell her what it meant wasn't here. Belle turned, the boots still held in her hand, and saw Lumiere's candelabra upon the glass case where she had left it earlier.

_Belle, you dolt! You have a wizard right here! _She lit the candles with a match and Lumiere appeared within the flames. "Lumiere, do you know magical runes?"

"But of course, Belle! Magical runes were my specialty," Lumiere boasted. "What do you need to know?"

"What does this mean?" and she held out the boot's sole for him to see.

"It is the rune for traveling," Lumiere replied.

"Traveling? Like in traveling dimensions?"

"No, no. As in traveling from here to there," Lumiere corrected. "The rune enables whatever it's placed on to travel rapidly from one place to another, sort of like the famed Seven League Boots. You take one stride and it's almost like transporting yourself somewhere with magic."

"I see. Thank you, Lumiere!" Belle murmured, her blue eyes glowing with excitement. Now she had a way to get to Rumple despite the awful weather. She carefully set the boots down behind the counter. "Now I must eat something," she told him, and then she blew out Lumiere's candles again.

She found a chocolate protein shake in Gold's mini fridge and drank it while waiting for Regina to arrive.

Regina appeared suddenly outside Gold's shop and banged on the door three times. "Belle! Let me in! It's freezing out here!"

Belle unlocked the door and let the mayor in. "Why aren't you wearing a coat?"

"I didn't think I was going to be outside," Regina answered. "I thought I could just teleport myself right into the shop. But he's put up wards against anyone doing that, so I couldn't get in. Damned paranoid little imp! Holy shit, it's cold!"

"I'm sorry. Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?" asked Belle solicitiously, though she was thrilled at the queen's words. So Rumple's wards would keep out even those magic wielders who could magically teleport places. It took a great weight off her mind, knowing that. Previously, she had barely slept worrying that somehow Zelena would try and enter the shop.

"Tea? No, whiskey would be better. I need to get back to work," Regina said. "This weather has everyone up in arms. So what have you got for me?"

Belle went and retrieved the replica from the drawer in the back room and said, "This is what we need Robin to do . . . swap the real dagger for this facsimile," she handed it to Regina.

Regina gasped. "If I didn't know better, I'd think this was it. Who made this?"

"Emma, from a spell out of the Booke of Night With Moon. Think it'll fool Zelena?"

"Hell, it almost fooled me," Regina acknowledged. "Okay, so when would you like to do this?"

"I need to talk to Rumple first," Belle reminded her. "See if he's found out anything else about some weaknesses of hers. Then we have to give her a reason to come after us again, not that she needs much of one."

"True. I'm actually surprised she hasn't attacked me again. Wonder what she's waiting for?"

"Perhaps Rumple knows why," Belle mused.

Regina nodded. "Once you've figured it out, call me. Oh, and if I see her damned monkey around my house again, it's going to be monkey see, monkey do, monkey die."

"I think that's her best spy, so maybe it won't be a bad thing to take it out."

"I'm sure it's not. And it'll show sister dearest that we're not just sitting ducks," Regina said.

"Here. One other thing. It's a cloak of invisibility. It'll help Robin get close to her and not worry about being seen," Belle handed her the cloak.

"Good because I'd prefer if he not get fried," Regina smirked, then she took the cloak and put it around her. "Okay, anything else?"

"No. You're good."

"Then I'm outta here," Regina said, and went to the door.

"Make like a banana and split," Belle teased, then unlocked the door.

Once Regina's shoes had touched the pavement, she vanished.

Belle returned to the shop to gather supplies once again, put on the chameleon cloak, retrieve the boots from behind the counter, and put the chipped cup away in the safe. Once everything had been locked up, she sat down and put the boots on in the shop entryway and locked the door.

Then she stood up and thought of where she needed to go and took one stride down the sidewalk.

In a twinkling she felt the rush of magic and suddenly she was standing outside the house where the Wicked Witch and Rumple were.

Pulling the cloak up around her, she took another step and was suddenly in the room where the cage was.

Rumple was awake and spinning, his dexterous hands feeding straw into the wheel while turning the treadle with his right foot, and gold was flowing onto the bobbin at an astonishing rate. He had his eyes shut, or nearly so, and the whirring of the wheel had almost put him into a trance, from what Belle could see. Clearly this was the only activity that gave him peace.

Her heart aching for him, she paused, reluctant to interrupt him, then she sighed and took a small step forward and was standing next to him in the cage. She opened her mouth to speak.

But he opened his eyes, and he seemed to glow from within when he saw her. "I thought it was you. You're always so . . . considerate when you see me spinning. Unlike that rude wretched hag, who feels she must disrupt everything anyone's doing in order to announce her presence."

Belle cupped his face in her hand. "Rumple, I'm so sorry I couldn't come sooner, but the storm . . . the only way I could get here was to borrow your Boots of Traveling in your trunk—"

"—you have nothing to apologize for, Belle. You shouldn't even be risking yourself this way. It's a dangerous game, dearie." He sighed and looked at her feet. "So you found them. I'm glad. What's mine is yours, you know." Then he pulled her onto his lap, saying roguishly, "But now that you're here, dearie, I'll take what I can get!"

Laughing softly, Belle put her arms around his neck. "I've missed you so much, Rumple. Every moment I spend apart from you feels like forever. And just thinking of that vile creature hurting you . . ." she grimaced.

"She's not really been going that route lately. She's become infatuated with me for some reason," he said, looking totally disgusted. "It's like I'm her new toy or something. See, she's actually given me some amenities." He gestured to the toilet hidden behind a curtain.

Belle shook her head. "How sweet!" her voice was sharp with sarcasm. "Rumple, I've come to tell you that you won't have to endure her pawing you much longer, because I've used the Booke of Night With Moon and Emma's made something that will free you from her."

His countenance brightened. "I knew you would discover a way to manage it, Belle!"

"Well, we still need to get close enough to her to swap it," she whispered in his ear.

"Hmm . . . I can provide a distraction, I think. You see, she's obsessed with becoming immortal, it's why she brought me back, because she thinks I hold the key to doing so. I don't, I'm only immortal because of the dagger curse, but she doesn't want to hear it," he went on to explain the three ingredients needed for the potion she wished to make.

"She . . . she wants to _kill_ Snow's baby?"

"I'm afraid so, dearie. But she won't get the chance. Still, there's the opportunity we need to distract her. The way to defeat her . . . is to make her think she has everything she wants. It's at that moment that we show her she's wrong."

"Rumple, that's brilliant!"

"I try, dearie. Of course I'll have to make sure I'm there with her, so I'll need to . . .fan the flames of her infatuation some more, I'm afraid." He looked distinctly unhappy.

"Rumple, you do what you have to, remember?" Belle encouraged. "I will always love you, so just . . . do what you must."

"I know . . . but I cannot help but feel guilty . . . just remember, no matter what you think you see . . .it's fake, none of it is real at all . . .she doesn't have my heart and she never will, for I trust it only to you, you are the flame that lights my way through the darkness, and you always have been," he said tenderly, then he kissed her with all the pent up desire and loneliness and love within him.

She kissed him back with equal passion, giving him the comfort and love he so desperately required . . . and that only she could give him. When she at last drew away, she said, "Rumple, I want you to know that whatever happens, I'll be beside you, come what may, we'll face this together. As it was always meant to be. Just be careful, please. I couldn't bear to lose you again. Out of all the women in your life, I'm the only one who really really loved you . . . and my heart broke in pieces when you died that day. If you die again . . . I'll follow you, because I couldn't stand the pain of losing you twice. So don't . . . don't make me choose, okay?"

Her brilliant blue eyes filled with tears, tears that he caught on the tip of his finger and brushed away.

"Belle . . . don't cry, sweetheart . . . I promise I'll not leave you again . . . I'm not going to die, not this time . . .this time I'm going to live . . . and so is Bae. Villains might not get happy endings, but I don't think I'm much of one any longer . . . your love has nearly shattered my curse, Belle . . . and this time I'm no longer afraid of losing my magic . . . for the greatest magic ever is you, dearie," he kissed her again, his own eyes wet with tears. "And this time will be the last time we'll ever be separated again . . . until we breathe our last in each other's arms. Because I'm marrying you as soon as we're free of Zelena. If you still want me, that is?"

"Of course I want you, you silly ass!" Belle scolded, smiling through her tears. "You're the _only_ one I've ever wanted and the furthest I want you to be from me is down the street in your shop once Dark, Green, and Witchy is gone."

"As you wish, Belle," he said, and then he gave her his signature dark and sexy smile . . . the one he reserved just for her. "Now go . . . tell the others of the plan and prepare. We have one more day . . . so let's not waste it."

She smiled back in return, wishing she could stay longer, but knowing that time was of the utmost now. "Stay strong, Rumple."

"You too."

Then she turned and took one stride and was outside the cage. Another and she was gone from the room and her third took her back home, where she set about calling Emma, the Charmings, Regina, and Robin to tell them the game was afoot and what they needed to do now.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Zelena went out to observe people and sent Allizander to spy upon her sister and a few others after making Rumple cook her breakfast that morning. Unlike the rest of Storybrooke, she actually enjoyed being out in the semi-darkness, for she liked the twilight and was amused at how the change sent the ordinary citizens scurrying home to hide behind their candles and lanterns, like children afraid of the dark and the boogeyman that lived within it. Soon, however, she would make them afraid for a very different reason.

She smiled thinking about it. All she needed was to be patient awhile longer and then she would have it all . . . when Snow White's baby was born. She had noticed this morning that Rumple had seemed warmer to her than usual, more receptive to her wishes and attentive, and also more . . . affectionate, smiling shyly at her and saying how her hair reminded him of burnt embers and her eyes of emeralds.

It had made her cold heart swell with an odd emotion and she preened in front of her mirror for an extra fifteen minutes before putting on her elegant black dress and fixing her hair and her hat just so before going outside. She had made sure he had seen her, and he had nodded and said she looked very . . .eyecatching . . . then he had winked at her. She had felt her heart race slightly, thinking that perhaps her mentor, the Wicked Witch of the East, was wrong when she said no woman needed a man to butter her up and all men were good for was making babies and trouble. Zelena knew Rumple might be a man, but she could teach him how to behave properly and he would be her sweet biddable pet . . . and worship her and keep her company like she deserved.

Now she observed that insipid schoolteacher Mary Margaret and her simpering husband David as they walked up to their loft, with Mary Margaret's hand on her belly, and her husband's around her waist. Mary Margaret looked ready to deliver at any moment, and when she did, Zelena planned to be there to congratulate her . . . on giving Zelena exactly what she needed to become immortal . . . and then taking the baby's still beating heart to be sacrificed in the ritual of immortality.

Her lip curled as she watched the couple enter the loft, thinking soon they would be so infernally optimistic and hopeful, for she was going to steal that all away . . . and leave them broken-hearted and destroyed . . . the way her mother had left her as an infant. And after she was immortal, she would destroy her little sister . . . because she needed no rivals in _her_ town, especially not uppity sassy siblings.

Regina could join their mother in the afterworld, the perfect daughter to keep Cora company while Zelena ruled.

Zelena turned and whisked herself from the Charming's loft to Gold's Pawnshop, but found like the last time she had tried, she could not enter Rumplestiltskin's shop. The wards prevented it.

Snarling agitatedly, she teleported back home, intending to ask the other wizard how to take the protections down. She had just set foot across the threshold when she felt a sudden sharp pain in her stomach. Clutching it, she sank down in a chair. It was followed by another cramp and then another. Fearing she'd been somehow poisoned, she yelled for Rumple to come to her.

"Mistress, what's wrong? You sound . . . panicked?" he queried, his dark eye worried. He placed a cool hand on her forehead, much the same way her father used to when she was sick as a child.

"I . . . I don't feel well, Rumple. I'm having stomach pains and I . . . want you to see if I've been poisoned or something," she ordered.

"Poisoned? What did you eat?"

"Nothing! Just . . . do that thing you do with your magic!"

He nodded, then laid a hand on her tummy, then he concentrated.

Frowning, he said, "How odd . . . I can't seem to find any reason why you're having cramps . . . but for some reason I keep getting a picture of eating a banana. I don't understand . . ."

"A banana? I hate them!" Zelena murmured, then she moaned again. "Don't just stand there, Rumple! _Do_ something!"

"But . . . how can I heal something when there's nothing to heal?"

"I'm in pain! Fix it!"

Rumple sighed, then went and fetched some aspirin and made a cup of senna tea, smirking into his hand. Perhaps a good purging would help, since she was filled with envy and bile. "Here. Take these and drink this. You should see results in about twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes! You can't make it work faster?"

"Sorry, Mistress," he spread his hands and gave her a sorrowful look. "But you should feel better soon." He went to remove her hat. "Perhaps a hot water bottle would make you feel a bit better?"

"Yes . . . I suppose so," she said peevishly.

He summoned one and escorted her to the couch, putting it on her tummy, thinking that if he didn't know better, he'd say she was experiencing sympathetic pains, but really who did she care about besides herself?

He began to hum softly, and stroke her hair. Zelena looked up at him and said, "How sweet of you, my pet! No one's been this . . . kind to me since my father . . . before I transformed him, that is!"

"I aim to please, Mistress," Rumple replied, hiding a sly smirk.

Some twenty minutes later, Zelena squirmed and shot to her feet.

"Is something wrong?" Rumple asked as the water bottle tumbled to the floor.

"I feel like . . . I need . . ." clutching her stomach, she teleported from the room.

Rumple giggled with wicked amusement.

Five minutes later, she was back, pale and ill looking. "It must be something I ate. What the hell was in that sausage you made this morning?"

Rumple shrugged. "Just breakfast sausage. Johnsonville or something. Perhaps the maple syrup doesn't agree with you?"

Frowning, she sat back on the couch.

Rumple handed her the water bottle back and asked, "Shall I read to you, Mistress?"

"Would you?"

"Once upon a time, there lived a girl with skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood . . ." he began.

"Not _that_ story!" she groused. "I don't want to hear about my sister and her stupid stepdaughter! Read me something else!"

"Okay," he agreed, and began to flip through the book of fairy tales. But before he got to another tale, Zelena was gone, poofing into the bathroom again.

"Looks like now things are moving!" he sniggered.

The wicked witch returned to the sofa again, and again Rumple attempted to read her the tale of Glinda, the Good Witch, but got barely a paragraph into the story when Zelena was gone once more.

After the fifth time, she snapped, "Rumple, you _have_ to do something! I've never been so sick in my life!"

He raised an eyebrow. "But Mistress, sometimes your body needs to . . . purge itself of harmful influences . . . and bile . . ."

"What? I could be dying and you don't care!" she whined.

"Of course I do!" he said, patting her hand. "Perhaps . . . perhaps it'd be better if you stayed on the toilet, Mistress. Otherwise you might have . . . err . . . an accident . . ."

She glared at him. Her stomach rumbled ominously. She jumped to her feet. "Dammit!" Panting, she gasped, "I'm . . . too tired to teleport there! Rumple, send me!"

"Send you where, Mistress?"

"You know where, you imbecile!" she yelled. Then she turned to run into the bathroom, too desperate to wait for her idiotic manservant.

Rumple cocked an eyebrow, looking at two of her monkeys who had come into the room.

The next sound he heard was screaming and swearing.

"I think she waited too long," he said to the monkeys. "Oh, dearie, dearie, dear!"

Then he doubled over laughing, which prompted the monkeys to start screeching.

Zelena emerged from the bathroom some ten minutes later, wearing a new dress. "What's wrong with them?" she snapped, pointing at the monkeys, who were jumping up and down and screaming.

"How should I know, Mistress? You speak their language," answered Rumple.

Zelena listened, her eyes growing wide in disbelief and horror. She put her hands to her cheeks. "No . . . no . . . no! This cannot be!"

"What is it?"

"They . . . they said that . . . Allizander is . . . dead!" she howled. "He ate something off Regina's lawn and he . .. died . . .this must be why I'm sick . . . because he's dead . . . my poor beautiful one . . ." She burst into noisy sobs.

"Why don't you cry about it?" Rumple muttered.

"W-what was that?" sniveled the witch.

"I said, I'm sorry for your loss, dearie," Rumple amended. He went and patted her shoulder.

She grabbed him and bawled all over him.

He grimaced but stood there.

"He . . . he . . . was my . . . my only friend . . .!" she wailed.

Rumple rolled his eyes. "Perhaps you should have been nicer, then you'd have had more than one friend, hmm?"

"Huh? W-what'd you say?"

"I said, he was a nice monkey to be your friend," Rumple replied. He conjured a handkerchief. "Here, Mistress, use this." _Because I'm not your snot rag!_

She blew her nose noisily, making Rumple nearly deaf. Then she spoke to her monkeys, telling them to bring her Allizander's body. "We'll have a funeral!"

"Yes, that's only right," Rumple agreed with false solicitude. Inwardly, he was glad the evil beast was gone, as the monkey had often clawed and bit at him while in the cage, it had as evil a temper as its mistress. Regina must have done something to it, he thought happily. _Score two for our side!_

Four monkeys appeared with Allizander's body, and Rumple held the witch as she wept, dry eyed, on his shoulder. If he didn't know any better, he might have felt sorry for her, but as it was, all he felt was relief that another of her spies was gone.

Zelena used her magic to cremate the monkey in the yard, while the other monkeys watched quietly, and then she scattered the ashes.

"Gods, I need a drink! Something to fortify me after what I've endured," she said, and began drinking from the bottle of whiskey in the cabinet.

"Mistress, you're going to get drunk," he warned.

"Who cares?" she snarled, and drank some more.

Before she could get totally wasted, Rumple asked, 'Mistress, what does your hat do?"

"That one?" she pointed to her favorite hat with the crumpled top.

"Yes."

"It's a hat of transformation. It can transform people into flying monkeys."

"I thought . . . being bitten did that."

"It does . . . but only if the monkey has been transformed by my hat. Which is what happened to that jackass Walsh."

"Walsh?"

"He was some nobody from Kansas, a carnival stage magician, he collected magical objects in Oz. Called himself Oz the Great and Terrible—and he was—terrible at magic!" she cackled. "Once I found out that he was a fraud, I transformed him into another flying monkey and took all his magical objects. That's why my monkeys' bite acts as a catalyst for transformation."

"I see. And can you transform them back with the hat?"

"Of course, but why would I want to do that?"

"True." Rumple nodded, but his facile brain was already plotting away to get the hat from her.

"Perhaps, Mistress, you'd like to lie down and rest?" he cooed.

"Yes, I think I shall!" she said, sounding like a whiny brat. She drank another swallow of whiskey before slamming the bottle down and Rumple led her into her bedroom.

She suddenly grabbed him and dragged him down onto the bed. "Rumple . . . I want you to hold me . . ."

"Err . . . okay . . ." he mumbled. _Shit! I cannot believe this! It must be the damned alcohol! She gets like a freaking horny bitch!_

He held Zelena in his arms, turning his head away, since otherwise he was blasted with the stench of whiskey. "Would you like me to sing you a lullaby?"

"Uh huh." She nuzzled his shoulder.

"Then can I go to sleep too?" he persuaded.

"Yes. Go to sleep in your cage," she mumbled. "Now—sing!"

Rumple began to sing, "Lullaby and goodnight, go to sleep little baby . . ."

Zelena cuddled closer to him, obviously feeling comfortable in his arms.

Rumple endured her until she was half-asleep, then he put her in the bed.

She blinked blearily up at him. "Rumple? Kiss me g'night."

"Certainly," he agreed, then he bent and kissed her quickly on the lips. _Ugh! Now I have to scrub out my mouth with bleach!_

Zelena smiled. "Such a good boy!" she crooned, then she fell asleep.

Rumple went back to his cage, unable to do anything else, and managed to fall asleep soon afterwards.

The next morning the sun was shining and it looked almost normal . . . except for the green tinge to the sky.

Zelena woke in a good mood, and bid Rumple take a shower before giving him some new clothes—a green shirt and white pants.

"What's the occasion, Mistress?" he asked.

Zelena laughed evilly. "Why, I've just had the best news, Rumple! It seems that milksop Mary Margaret has been delivered of a baby boy! Thet stupid Munchkin friend of hers was going down the street announcing it. Now go and clean up so we can welcome the little prince into the world!"

"You wish to . . . offer your congratulations?" he asked, keeping his eyes downcast.

"Yes, fool! My _final_ congratulations, if you know what I mean!"

"Yes, Mistress!" he purred. Then he took the clothes into the bathroom, locking the door and setting a ward before running the shower.

This was indeed good news. For it meant that the final phase of his plan had begun. _He who laughs last, laughs best, Zelena._

**A/N: Please read and review . . . I've recently had some horrible news, my oldest sister had a reoccurance of her breast cancer in some of her bones and liver and it doesn't sound very promising, so please pray for her. She is a big fan of OUAT and Rumple and was the one who introduced me to the show. I'm finishing this story for her, and praying that she'll recover. **


	10. Justice For All

**10**

**Justice For All**

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my awesome sister Angela (love is hope and we're all hoping for your recovery, thanks to everyone for prayers and good wishes) and to awesome Robert Carlyle, whose birthday is today! This is how I believe the Zelena storyline SHOULD end.**

Snow cradled the baby in her arms, cooing softly to him, and saying to Charming, "Isn't he perfect? He's amazing!"

"Yes, he sure is," her husband agreed, beaming at the pair as they lay in the hospital bed.

Also visiting them were Emma, Belle, Regina, and Robin. They were gathered around the bed, smiling and joking about how much the baby looked like his father, but with Snow's dark hair and definitely her smile.

Until in a cloud of green smoke, Zelena appeared in the room, along with Rumple. "Well, if it isn't a bouncing baby boy!" the wicked witch cooed. "Mind if I hold him?"

"No!" Snow yelped, clutching the baby to her.

"Get away from my family!" Charming cried, standing up and looking like he was going to jump on Zelena.

"Back off, Cowardly Lion," Zelena snarled. "Scarecrow, restrain him."

Rumple obeyed, casting a freeze charm on David.

"Now . . .let's see your bundle of joy," Zelena smirked.

"Get away from her," Regina cried, and went to cast something at her sister.

Zelena spun on her. "You! _You_ killed my beautiful one!" she growled. "And now you're gonna pay!" She touched her hat brim . . . and a bright violet light shot out and transformed Regina into a flying monkey. "How do ya like _them_ apples, babycakes?"

"You still have to go through me!" Emma cried. Behind her, Robin pulled up the hood of his cloak and vanished.

"With pleasure . . . savior!" chuckled the witch, and she thrust out a hand and sent Emma slamming backwards into the wall. "Who's next? You, girl?" she glared at Belle.

"She's harmless, Mistress. Not even worth a thought," Rumple interceded quickly. "Remember what we came here for?"

"Right." Zelena turned her attention back to Snow and the baby. "Let me see the little nipper," she growled, and levitated the baby out of Snow's arms.

"No! Please . . . don't hurt my baby!" Snow sobbed, holding her arms out in a futile gesture.

"I'm afraid, dear . . . that I have to disappoint you," Zelena purred, holding the wailing baby close. "Because, you see . . . I need his heart!" Then she reached in and ripped out the baby's heart, holding it aloft in triumph a moment later. "I won! Wicked always wins!"

Her eyes glimmering with triumphant madness, she turned and shoved the baby back at Snow, who took the infant and wept. Then she stuck the heart in her pocket and grabbed Rumple by his jacket lapels. "Let's have ourselves a celebratory kiss, shall we?"

"Of course, darling," Rumple answered, then he kissed her hard, nipping her sharply with his teeth.

Zelena moaned against him, and he drew her close. _Come on, Hood, what the hell are you waiting for?_

Zelena was so caught up in the throes of victory that she never even felt the ghostly fingers at her belt, fingers that were there and gone again in mere seconds. She drew back, panting, her eyes shining in delight. "Now, I shall become immortal!"

She summoned a flask with a snap of her fingers, crushed the baby's heart, and poured it into the potion, then she drank.

Throwing back her head she laughed like a monkey on crack. "Now _I_ shall rule the realms! I am like unto a goddess!" She grinned at Rumple. "And you, Rumplestiltskin, shall be my consort! Take my hand, love!"

But Rumple just looked at her, disgust written all over his features. "Sorry, dearie. But I'd sooner take the hand of a leper than yours."

Zelena stared at him. "W-What? But . . . but you _have_ to! You _have_ to obey me!" Her face scrunched up into a scowl that would have done a spoiled brat proud. "_DO IT!"_

"I have one word for you, dearie," Rumple said, smirking. "No."

Zelena drew the dagger from her belt. "You cannot disobey me! I have your dagger! I command you, Dark One!"

"Actually, no you don't. Not anymore!" Rumple sniffed. "Because that is _not_ my dagger! It's a red herring!"

Belle patted her coat pocket and grinned.

"Of course this is your dagger!" Zelena blustered. "You're just playing with me, aren't you, Rumple?" She tittered softly. "Good joke!"

"The joke's on you, I'm afraid," Rumple sneered. "In every way, you green bitch! Not only do you not command me, you aren't immortal either, Zelena! Take a look!" He pointed at Snow, who should have been devastated over the loss of her baby, but was instead smirking and holding up . . . a doll that looked like a baby.

"Surprise! You're on Candid Camera!" she said brightly.

"_What?_ But the heart . . . it came out of its chest . . ."

"Aye , it did, dearie, but you're sloppy. You never bothered to check what kind of heart it was. The heart of a pig looks just as good as the heart of a human, don't you know?" Rumple giggled. Then he glared at her. "Did you really think I'd stand there and let you harm a baby, Zelena? Did you? Then you don't know me as well as you think!" He waved a hand and her hat was blown off her head. A snap of his fingers released Charming from his freeze spell. "Emma, get the hat and transform Regina back," he ordered.

As Emma did so, his eyes narrowed and he said grimly, "Once you wanted me for a tutor, Zelena. Well, here's my first and final lesson—payback's a bitch, dearie!"

Then he lunged at her and ripped the emerald away from her.

"Belle, now!"

Belle drew out a Nerf Super Soaker, which she had concealed beneath her coat, and fired several bursts at the witch, who was reeling from Rumple's sudden defection and treachery.

Zelena shrieked and cowered as the water hit her, burning her like acid. "No-o-o! I hate water!"

She made as if to transport away, but Rumple waved his hand and her spell failed.

"No, you don't. You're going to stay and face the just punishment you've earned," he intoned coldly.

"_You_ helped me!" she spat. "You're as much to blame!"

"You _forced_ me into being your pawn, I never helped you willingly! And everything I did, Zelena, was done to bring you down! I never cared for you, never enjoyed your little advances, they were worse than a dog licking me. It was all I could do not to throw up when you kissed me! And now . . . now Little Miss Wicked—your debt has come due!"

"What debt? What are you talking about?"

"The one you owe the gods of night and shadow for tricking them with Neal's sacrifice!" Emma snarled. "_That_ debt!" Then she marched up and punched Zelena right in the jaw . . . and at the same time smearing her with squid ink. "And _that's_ for Neal and Rumple, you wicked bitch!"

Zelena staggered, only to be sent reeling from a second punch, this time from Regina. "And that's for getting in my face!"

Rumple gestured and the stiffened Zelena was jerked upright. "Last but not least—_this_ is how the dark gods shall get their just sacrifice, since you denied them their due!" He held his hands above her head. "By darkness and light, by moonlight and shadow, I, Rumplestiltkin, cast a retributive sacrifice upon thee, Zelena, and in so doing, restore my son to me!"

Purple magic streamed down upon the witch, making her writhe and squirm even through the squid ink. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out because she was frozen, yet the agony on her face was palpable.

"Oh, and I forgot to mention one little thing. It'll HURT . . . a lot!"

Zelena thrashed and bucked like a hooked fish, but it mattered not. Rumple poured all of his anger and anguish from being her slave into the spell he had cast and let her have that too. The retribution sucked her life and soul out of her, since the gods demanded such a thing in return for what she had done. One hand thrust out, and suddenly the triangle within a circle sigil blazed upon her hand, engraved upon her palm.

Down in the basement of Gold's shop, the sigil vanished from the hand of a certain man who sometimes went by Neal Cassidy and other times Baelfire. And then he opened his eyes.

As the others watched in grim satisfaction, the wicked witch withered and faded into a dry husk, a shell of her former self.

Rumple lowered his hands. "Like I always say—all magic comes with a price."

"You can say that again," Robin nodded, reappearing as he removed the hood from his head.

Rumple looked at him. "Thank you for your assistance."

Robin shrugged. "Hey, nobody deserved what she did to you. Happy to be of service." He made as if to give the cloak back, but Rumple stopped him.

"Keep it. Consider it a bonus-for a job well done," the sorcerer said with a small smile. He looked at Regina. "And you can have her hat and her pendant."

"Thanks. Now I can re-transform all of the people who were flying monkeys, like Little John," Regina said happily, and picked up the hat and the pendant from the ground.

"Rumple, here's your dagger," Belle said, and came and offered it to him.

As he took the dagger in his hand, there came a flicker of bright light and someone else appeared in the room.

"Papa?"

"Bae!" Rumple cried, and moved to take his son in his arms. "Oh, Bae! You're alive!"

Bae hugged his father tightly. "And so are you!"

They clung to each other, weeping silent unashamed tears, each celebrating the fact that the other was still there to hold and to love.

"Are you okay?" Rumple asked once he could speak again.

"I'm fine. You?"

"Wonderful now that Zelena is dead and you're back where you belong," Rumple answered. Then he stepped back and indicated Emma. "And I think someone else wants to say welcome home, Bae."

Neal turned . . . and saw Emma standing there, her hair a little windblown, her eyes glimmering with tears. "Emma? You know . . . I thought I was dreaming . . . but I think I remember . . . you kissing me . . ." He approached, somewhat hesitantly.

"Well, maybe this will jog your memory, Neal," she replied, then she was in his arms and kissing him like there was no tomorrow.

And as she did so, a golden glow spread from her and Neal and washed over the room . . . and all of Storybrooke.

Everyone gasped as their memories were restored, for True Love's Kiss breaks all curses.

In the diner, Henry was having chocolate milk and a cinnamon bun with Hook when the glowing light washed over him.

The boy blinked and put a hand to his head. A second later he took it away and said, "Hey, Killian, I remember everything now! And I need you to take me over to the hospital. I want to see my dad."

Killian looked startled.

"Then I guess the curse broke. Your mom must have done it."

"Yup. She always does," Henry smiled.

"Okay, kid. Then let's go," and the pirate threw down some bills and rose to his feet, following an eager Henry out the door.

Meanwhile, in the hospital room, Emma continued kissing Neal, unable to get enough of him. His lean arms held her tight and she melted into his embrace, for a single instant letting go of everything except the feel of his arms about her, holding her like she was the most precious thing on earth. And she in turn held him fiercely like she never wanted to let him go.

Until a familiar voice said, "Oh my God, Mom! Let Dad _breathe!_"

They drew apart, to turn and see their son standing in the doorway, and Hook behind him.

"Henry!" Emma exclaimed, reaching out to hug her son. "You remember!"

"Yeah, because the curse was broken," he said, then he ran and hugged her and Neal. "Hey, Dad."

"Hey, tiger," Neal said, and grabbed his son in a hug that picked him off the ground. "God, I missed you and your mom!"

Emma smiled at her two boys, then her gaze was drawn to Hook. She looked over at him and nodded.

Hook nodded back. Then he gave a rueful grin and departed, understanding that Emma was not for him, and never had been. But there were plenty of other fish in the sea.

After Neal finished hugging Henry, Belle hugged him next, and so did David, Robin, and Regina.

Snow started to get out of the bed to do so also, but felt a sudden sharp contraction in her lower back. "Oh, damn!"

"Honey, what's the matter?" asked Charming.

"David . . . I think I'm in labor," Snow declared.

Her husband went pale as a sheet.

Rumple poked him. "Don't faint now, Charming! She needs you."

"Uh . . . right . . . let me go call the doctor, honey!" Charming bolted from the room.

"Mom, Grammy's having her baby now?" Henry gaped at Snow.

"Yup. Now let's go down and get an ice cream to celebrate," Neal said, and steered Henry from the room.

"I think I'll go join him. Coming, Regina?" asked Robin.

"Yes," Regina followed them from the room.

"I'm staying, Mom," Emma reassured her. She held out a hand for Snow to squeeze.

"Thanks, Emma. Oooh, that was a big one!" Snow groaned.

"Breathe, dearie," Rumple instructed softly. He took Snow's other hand. "Now . . . I'm going to numb you a wee bit. Ready?" He concentrated and a golden glow washed over the laboring woman.

"Ahh . . . that feels so much better, Rumple!" Snow sighed gratefully. "How come you can heal with your magic and you're . . . err . . . the Dark One?"

Before Rumple could try and answer her, someone else did.

"It's because he's not just the Dark One, Snow White . . . not any longer. He's the Mage of Light and Shadow," answered a deep bass voice.

They all looked up to see a tall man with hair black as a moonless night with sharp angular features and pointed ears standing there. He was dressed all in black, black leather pants, billowing shirt, and long shadowy black cloak, but around his neck sparkled a brilliant moonstone pendant. He was pale as parchment and his huge eyes were cat-like green. Upon his high brow was a tattoo—in blue woad of a crescent moon with three stars upon a midnight circle.

Snow, Belle, and Rumple goggled at him, wide-eyed.

Then Rumple stepped forward and knelt at the stranger's feet, holding the dagger out on his palms. "Abraxus Nightlord, god of moonlight and shadows, I greet thee."

Abraxus' lips twitched in a sly smirk. "Is all this bowing and scraping really necessary, Rumple? I'm not Zelena, you know." He took Rumple gently by the arm and raised him to his feet. "That gets kind of old after the first two centuries. So please, don't do it. And don't apologize either, I already can sense you're sorry."

Rumple swallowed what he had been about to say.

Abraxus turned to Snow. "Sorry, my timing's atrocious, as my mother would say, but I had to come here now." He waved a hand. "There! Your labor's been put off for a bit, so I can talk. First off, I'd like to congratulate you all on working together to bring Zelena to justice. That's what we want to see—cooperation, even if you hate your neighbor. Because there has to be a balance of Light and Dark in all things. It's the Law of Creation. The Law that Zelena conveniently forgot . . . or thought she could ignore. But you can't, for all magic comes with a price, and bringing back the dead carries the greatest price of all . . . which is why it's forbidden save in special cases." Abraxus frowned. "But she'll learn the error of her ways . . . if it takes all of eternity, which it very well might." He shrugged. "But then, you cross us at your own peril, as she discovered . . . and will keep on discovering."

There was a dark grim note in his voice now, and everyone in the room shivered upon hearing it.

Then Abraxus continued. "But that isn't why I'm here, for you don't need me to tell you things you already figured out. I'm here to thank you personally, Rumplestiltskin, for being the avatar of our justice, and to give to you a blessing for your service. We do not forget our debts, magic's child."

"Thank you, my lord."

Abraxus smiled. "You are most welcome. Now what would you like?"

"Just one thing. I would like this . . . curse taken off of me. I would like to . . . give back the power of the dagger, for I no longer need or want it. It is a burden I can do without," Rumple replied, looking right into the god's eyes.

"You are certain?"

"Yes, my lord. Take it away . . ._please._ If I must choose between power and being ordinary, then I choose to be ordinary. It is enough and more than enough."

Abraxus chuckled. "Well done, Rumple! You have passed my test . . . as I had hoped. The others swore no mortal ever would, yet you have done it. . . finally!"

"Test?"

Abraxus smirked in glee. "Yes. You see when we, the gods of Light and Shadow, created the Dark One and the dagger all those centuries ago, it was a test of mortal fortitude and integrity and courage. We wanted to see what would happen if we gave a man everything he could ever desire in the form of magical power . . .but made the cost that he would in turn lose what made him most human . . . his heart. Down through the centuries, we watched the Dark Ones come and go . . . and we saw, to our sorrow, that each one was greedy, selfish, and cruel, and the power warped them and made them tyrants. Not one in all those centuries proved able to see past power's lure and recognize magic's truth—that everything has a price, and you need both light and dark in order to be in Balance. Until you. You alone were the only Dark One to ever seize the power of the dagger, not for yourself, but for your son and those children dying in a fool's hopeless war. You gave up your heart, not for yourself, but for others, and in so doing proved that even a so-called coward could be a savior, and a Beast still keep a spark of goodness in his black heart. Because of that, the Dark One curse did not destroy your humanity, and it is that which your True Love, Belle, saw within you. Though the burden of the curse forced you to do horrible things, those deeds were balanced by the good you did—in saving the children, in helping Snow White and Prince Charming, putting a loophole in the Dark Curse, reminding Regina of her own humanity, sparing the life of a rogue, loving Belle, loving Baelfire, helping Emma awaken to her true potential, saving Henry, sacrificing your life for everyone to stop a true monster, and bringing Zelena to a final judgment. The scales balance. No day without night, no night without stars. And by willingly giving up the dagger, you have learned our most important lesson—that true power lies, not in magic, but in _love_."

He laid a hand upon Rumple's brow. "And now, I give thee the reward you have earned, Rumplestiltskin, my son."

Then he kissed the sorcerer on the forehead.

There was brief flash of light.

And the dagger in Rumple's grip flickered.

When he looked down again, dizzy, Rumple saw his name had been erased completely.

Abraxus gently plucked the dagger from his grasp. "'Tis done. No more Dark One, Rumple. Instead there is only the Mage of Light and Shadow, forevermore."

"Then . . . I still have magic?" repeated Rumple, dazed.

"But of course! Your magic has always been there, we just suppressed it. But our experiment is over and now you can be as you were born to be, and like all who bear magic's Gift, to choose what you shall do with it. But remember—all magic comes with a price. Choose wisely." Then Abraxus placed a black cord about his Chosen's neck, with a medallion bearing his sigil upon it. "Fare thee well, Rumplestiltskin!"

Then Abraxus vanished as swiftly as he had come, taking the dagger with him, and the gods lifted their onus from Storybrooke, and all was as it had been once more.

Belle came and hugged her beloved, their mouths meeting in a breath stealing kiss that should have set the room on fire.

Until Snow interrupted with a snarled, "Where the _hell_ is my husband? What'd he do—take a detour to Oz? He'd better be back before this baby gets born, or else he can go live at the animal shelter!"

Belle and Rumple broke off their kiss, giving Snow a slightly guilty look. "Sorry, maybe we should do this another time," Belle said contritely.

"Like outside in the hallway," Rumple murmured, and started to drag her into the hall.

Just as Charming, Whale, and some nurses burst into the room.

"Sorry, I'm late, honey," Charming panted. "I took a wrong turn at the café and ended up in Radiology."

Snow rolled her eyes. "Figures!"

"Okay, people, I need everybody out except the papa-to-be and—" began Whale.

"Don't even _think_ about ordering me away," Emma stated firmly.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Whale chuckled. "But Gold and Belle—out!" He turned to shoo them from the room, only to find they were already gone.

Down the hall, in an alcove, Rumple proceeded to kiss Belle senseless, making up for lost time, in the best way possible.

**A/N: Stay tuned, dearies, there's still more to come! Hope you all liked the way I killed off Zelena the Witchy-Bitch from hell. Thanks as well to Jamie for her help and input on this story! Next up-Swanfire and Rumbelle family bonding, yay!**


	11. Comfort

**11**

**Comfort**

"Dad, how long does it take to have a baby?" asked Henry while he ate his chili dog with fries in the hospital cafeteria.

Neal also ate a hot dog—but with sauerkraut and spicy mustard, and had onions rings and a chocolate shake. "Uh . . . I think it all depends," he glanced at Robin and Regina for help.

"Well, Marian took ten hours to have Roland," Robin replied. "Near as I can remember it."

"And she probably spent half that time wishing she never kissed you," joked Regina.

Robin shook his head. "Actually, she didn't. She said she didn't mind the pain, because it had a purpose, and at the end of it was the best reward of all."

Neal wondered if Emma had felt that way about having Henry, all alone with strangers and knowing she'd have to give up her baby. It made him feel guilty and sad all over again, and angry that he'd ever listened to August Booth to begin with. _Coward! You were a worse coward than Papa,_ his conscience shouted. And he quickly took another bite of his hot dog to douse the shameful blush he was sure had crept up into his cheeks.

"I think Grammy feels that way about Gramps," Henry put in, finishing his fries.

"One would hope," Regina said, rolling her eyes. The Charmings' devotion to each other had always amused her.

"Dad, can I have ice cream?" Henry asked Neal.

"Yeah, as long as you've finished your dinner," Neal began, then he started laughing.

"Huh? What's so funny?" asked Robin.

"Uh . . . it's because . . . umm . . . I sound like—"

"-me," Rumple put in, coming up to the table with Belle. His eyes crinkled as he smiled at his son and grandson. "I always said that to him when he was a boy."

"Looks like the acorn doesn't fall far from the tree," Belle remarked, and she grinned at Neal. "Rumple, I want a hamburger."

"Me too," the sorcerer answered. "Beating the stuffing out of wicked witches always gives me an appetite. And while I'm over there, I'll get you a cone, Henry. What kind do you want?"

"Uh, chocolate."

Rumple's eyes twinkled even more. "You're right, Belle. It really doesn't. Because that's my favorite kind too."

"Wicked!" Henry exclaimed, then he blushed. "Umm . . . I mean, awesome, Grandpa!" Then he added, "You don't mind if I . . . err . . . call you that, right?"

"No, it's who I am," Rumple said.

Henry beamed at him. "Cool! And when you get back, can you tell me some stories about my dad when he was a kid?"

"Be glad to," Rumple chuckled and went off to get the food.

Neal looked at Henry. "Henry, you don't want to hear something like that. It's boring."

"Sure I do, Dad," his son refuted. "How else am I gonna get to know what you were like when you were my age?"

"You can imagine it," Neal said quickly.

"What are you hiding?" asked Henry suspiciously.

"Nothing!" Neal shot back. "It's just . . . there was nothing really interesting going on when I was kid back in Fairy Tale Land. I mean, there was no TV, no video games, no computers . . . see, boring?"

Henry looked skeptical.

Just then Rumple returned with the food and handed Henry his ice cream.

Inbetween licks, Henry asked, "Hey, Grandpa, was it boring when you lived back in Fairy Tale Land?"

"Boring? Not really," Rumple answered. "Why?"

"Uh . . . because Dad said since you didn't have stuff like video games it was boring," Henry began.

Rumple smirked. "Really, dearie? Have you forgotten about the Great Squirrel Hunt?"

Neal shook his head. "Aww, no! Not _this _one again . . ."

"What one?" Henry asked, eaten alive by curiosity.

"Yeah tell us!" Robin urged.

"Even I want to hear it!" Regina said.

"Well, one day Bae and his friend next door decided to have a contest on who could shoot the most squirrels with their slingshots. . . because they were eating everything in our gardens and we would starve without our produce . . .and Bae went to shoot his fourth squirrel . . . and he shot me instead and knocked me out . . ."

"Oh my God, Dad! You nearly _killed _Grandpa?" Henry cried.

Everyone cracked up laughing—except for Neal who was red and hiding behind his hand.

"Thanks ever so much!" he grumbled to Rumple.

"What else happened?" asked his son.

"Nothing!" Neal put in.

"A whole book's worth of things . . ." Rumple said gleefully, and regaled them all with funny stories, making the time fly, and everyone distress into the bargain, even Neal.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

An hour later, Snow was delivered of a beautiful little boy, who looked like a combination of Snow and David, having David's chin and Snow's dark hair, which stood up in tufts about his head. They named him Gavin Leopold Nolan, after both his grandfathers, and everyone took turns, even Henry, holding the baby for a few minutes after Snow had fed him. Regina and Emma took pictures on their phones, and so did Belle, when Rumple was holding Gavin.

"Looks like you still remember how it's done," she teased.

Rumple looked up at her, his hands gently cradling the baby to him, not at all nervous as some of the other guys had been, including David. "That's not something you ever really forget, Belle," he said, smiling down at the child in his arms. "It feels like only yesterday I held Bae in my arms."

"Aww, Papa, please!" Neal groaned, looking embarrassed.

Everyone chuckled then, and as Rumple handed Gavin back to his mother, Snow looked at Emma and said, "Emma, we'd like you to be Gavin's godmother."

"And Neal, we'd like you to be the godfather," David said to him.

Both Emma and Neal goggled in shock. Then they looked at the brand new parents and said, "Uh . . . okay . . . if you're sure?" almost in the same breath.

Snow laughed. "Of course we are!" Then she yawned and so did the baby.

Regina noticed and said, "I think somebody's tired, so why don't we all go home and let them sleep?"

"Sounds good to me," Robin agreed.

Neal looked at Emma and Henry. "Uh . . . where are you two staying? In the loft?"

"Uh, no, we rented a room at Granny's," Emma said. "But there's room for you too, Neal."

Neal smiled at her, that sweet roguish smirk she adored. "Glad to hear it, Swan."

Henry took his hand and Emma's. "Come on, guys. Let's go home. I'm sort of tired."

Neal looked at Rumple. "Papa, I'll come by in a day or two, okay?"

Rumple nodded. "Stop by whenever you like, Bae. You too, Henry and Emma."

He watched as his son and what would hopefully be his new family left, then he rose and said to Belle, "We ought to be going too, Belle. From what you told me, I still have a few loose ends to tie up."

"So do I," said Regina. "I need to transform all the monkeys back into people." She clutched Zelena's hat in her left hand. Then she looked at the floor beside Snow's bed, where Zelena's ashes lay scattered. "And I guess I ought to take her remains out of here and put them in the family crypt. Beside my mother's." Grimacing, she summoned an empty flask and transported the ashes into it, then sealed the bottle.

"Let's go, Regina. I'd like to see Little John again. I've missed my buddy," Robin said, and then he led the former Evil Queen away.

Belle and Rumple followed suit, and the Charmings were left alone with their new addition, cooing and holding him until the nurse came to put him in the nursery and let Snow sleep, while David relaxed on the recliner and watched TV.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Belle and Rumple returned to Gold's Pawnshop, and once Belle had unlocked the door, showed Rumple where Lumiere was sitting on the glass counter. "I promised him that after all this was over, you'd restore him to his proper shape," Belle informed her beloved.

Rumple nodded. "And so I shall." Then he performed his first bit of magic since losing his cursed self, waving a hand and saying softly, "Be as thou were!"

Golden light spilled from his fingers, surrounding the candelabra, and then it died and a medium-sized man appeared sitting on the counter, wearing a long tunic of emerald green and buff breeches, sporting a small reddish goatee and reddish hair curled about his head. Lively blue eyes danced in a rather handsome face.

He looked at his hands and body in astonishment. "I'm . . . me again!"

"I told you that Rumple would change you back," Belle said, smiling.

Lumiere hopped down onto the floor. "Forgive me, mademoiselle, for ever doubting you." He bowed to Belle and took her hand and kissed it like a courtier.

Then he turned to Rumple. "Many thanks for releasing me from that . . . prison. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lumiere Gulch, a wizard of Oz." He held out a hand for Rumple to shake.

Rumple took it, then said, "Rumplestiltskin, though here I usually go by Mr. Gold. Glad to be of service." He gave the other sorcerer a friendly smile.

Lumiere suddenly sobered, then asked softly, "If I'm free . . . and you're free . . . then that surely means that my daughter is gone . . ."

Belle and Rumple nodded respectfully.

Lumiere swallowed hard. "I . . . know you cannot share what I feel . . . not after what she must have done to you especially, Rumplestiltskin . . . and I would like to apologize for what she did to you . . .I know it is nothing in light of what you have endured, but . . . for what it's worth, I am sorry for whatever she did . . ." he blinked back tears. "You must think I'm an awful father . . . but I did try to raise her right . . . only I failed . . ."

"No, you're wrong," Rumple corrected softly. "Wrong on all counts. You see, while I cannot mourn her because of what she did to me, I can understand why you do. She was your child, and no matter how wrong she was, you still loved her. I'm a father too, I know how that is. And I accept your apology, because it wasn't your fault, the choices she made. What she did, were for her own reasons, and there comes a time when you need to let your child take responsibility for their own actions and take the consequences as well. Even if you had been free, what could you have done to stop her, Lumiere?"

"About as much as spit in the wind, I fear. But . . . I would have been able to try . . . at least a little . . . to reason with her . . ." He shook his head sadly. "Though I know you're right, still a part of me—the foolish part—hopes I could have made a difference. But then, I have often been foolish where she was concerned."

"So are we all when it comes to our children," Rumple asserted. "We would die for them, put ourselves through hell for them . . . and yet sometimes we are blind to their faults, until it's too late . . ."

"That is so true," Lumiere agreed. "Do . . . do you know where her . . . remains are?"

"Her sister has them. Regina Mills, the mayor of this town," Belle said. "She was going to put them in the family crypt."

Lumiere chuckled, a soft wild sound. "Ah . . . so at last she is reunited with her mother . . .even though Cora never wanted her . . ." He shook his head again, and two tears trickled down his face. "Forgive me . . ."

"There's nothing to forgive," Belle said kindly, and handed him an embroidered handkerchief.

Lumiere took it and covered his face with his hands.

"My condolences," Rumple said sincerely, because while he wasn't sorry Zelena was dead, he was sorry for Lumiere, who had to grieve the loss of a child. _But for the grace of the gods, there go I._

Then he and Belle stepped away, moving into the back room of the shop, where Belle showed him the Booke of Night With Moon, the most powerful compendium of spells in the realms, now his. He touched the pendant on his chest, noting that it and the book bore Abraxus' symbol.

_The Mage of Light and Dark. That's who I am now,_ Rumple thought as he stroked the cover of the spellbook. It was such a relief to be free of the burden of the Dark One, it was like a great shadow had been lifted from his spirit. And while he knew that some injuries still lingered, for he had not come through Zelena's crucible unscathed, he also knew that he would heal in time.

He picked up the book and put it in his jacket pocket. "We ought to go home, Belle. I need a shower and a long rest in my own bed . . . with you beside me."

She laughed at his hopeful puppydog eyes, and his scheming smirk, and then she hugged him. "Yes, but what about Lumiere? Where will he go?"

"There's room in my house for him to stay for awhile . . . until he decides where he wants to go," Rumple said, unwilling to leave the other wizard on his own.

"Or he could stay at my apartment in the library," Belle mused.

"We'll ask him," Rumple said, and then he kissed her.

After about ten minutes they ventured out to see Lumiere staring at some of the things in the glass cases, his eyes red but now composed.

"Lumiere, we don't wish to intrude but . . . we'd like to go home and you can't stay in the shop, but you can come back with us to Rumple's house or . . . or stay in my apartment above the library," Belle offered.

"I understand, Belle. And I think . . . you two need some time alone and so do I. I'll stay in the apartment above the library, if you'd be so kind as to show me where it is," Lumiere said calmly.

"I'd be glad to," Belle said, and then she handed him the keys to the apartment.

They all left the shop together, and after Rumple locked up, walked across the street to the library.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_Gold's Victorian:_

Rumple soaked and soaked in the hot shower, practically scrubbing himself raw, trying without success to get rid of the tainted feeling from him embracing and touching Zelena. For so long he had been unable to do this thing, and now that he could, he feared he was going overboard. But he couldn't seem to help himself, he just wanted to scour away all the traces of that witch and her foul touch.

Finally he forced himself to stop, his skin was tingling almost to the point of hurting, and then he just stood under the hot jets of water, letting it wash over him. He had scrubbed his hair with his favorite herbal shampoo and the water soothed the raw places within him as well as relaxing all his muscles.

_It's over. You're free. She's dead. She can't hurt you any longer._ But even repeating those facts like a mantra over and over still didn't stop him from feeling afraid and trapped.

Even though his curse was broken, he still felt vulnerable and lost, and he shut his eyes, wishing he could wash away the stain of the last week, the last year, and he hugged himself, shaking slightly.

And tears mixed with the water and flowed down his face, he cried then because he had come home . . . but yet he hadn't after all. For a part of him was still locked in that cage, spinning to preserve his sanity, and controlled by that green bitch.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

When Rumple emerged from the shower and dressed in his favorite pair of soft plaid pajamas bottoms and a heather colored T-shirt, he found Belle already in bed, reading a book, wearing a soft powder blue night shirt with the saying _I Sleep With Words All Over Me_ and it was covered with books. She had her knees drawn up to her chest with the book propped on them and her chestnut hair floated about her face in a dark halo.

Rumple paused before coming all the way into the room, content to just watch her, drinking in the sight of her, letting his love-starved eyes get their fill of her. And he smiled, just a little, at the thought that she had waited for him. "Is that a good book?" he asked calmly.

Belle turned and said, "Yes. It's called _Somewhere Lies the Moon_, and it's about a girl's love for a man deemed unsuitable for her and their love for each other and their life together. It reminds me somewhat of us." Then she set it aside. "Come to bed, Rumple."

He came and crawled into bed beside her. "Belle . . ." he said, awkward and unable to articulate how he felt . . . which was unworthy of her. "I . . . just . . . I . . . need . . ."

"I know. I'm here," was all she said, but it was enough. Then she gathered him into her arms. "You're safe now." Her mouth found his and she kissed him, but this was a kiss to comfort and not a prelude to lovemaking.

Rumple curled into her embrace, laying her head on his shoulder.

He snuggled into her arms, and she cuddled against him, reveling in the fact that he was here and she could do so. She rubbed his back and his neck, easing the tension coiled there, and then she stroked his hair. She didn't mind waiting to consummate their love. He was wounded and hurting, and they had the rest of their lives to do so.

He shivered suddenly in her arms and she felt hot tears dampen her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said hoarsely.

"Shhh. You have nothing to be sorry for. _She's_ the one who ought to be sorry, and I'm sure the gods are making her regret her stupidity. Over and over again." Her hands tangled lovingly in his hair, combing through it in a gentle rhythm.

Finally his breathing evened out and he slept, nestled against her, and she did as well.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Emma smoothed out Henry's hair as Neal tucked a blanket around their son, who had fallen asleep on the couch watching Scooby Doo. "His hair . . . it sticks up a bit in the back, like yours."

"Yeah I noticed," Neal chuckled softly. "Well, he's out like a light. Guess we ought to turn in too. I can take the recliner over here."

He started to pull another blanket and pillow out of the alcove beside the closet.

"No. Neal . . . the bed's big enough for us . . . and we can shut the door," Emma said, giving a knowing look towards the sleeping Henry.

He raised an eyebrow, a little astonished by what she was implying. _Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Neal._ "Okay, Emma. If that's . . . what you want."

She nodded. "I do. Is it what you want?"

He laughed huskily. "It's what I've been wanting for a year now, Swan." Then he reached into a pocket and pulled out the swan keyring which she had converted into a pendant. "Here. I kept this for you."

She took the pendant and put it on, and once it was back where it belonged, she said, "Thanks. I've missed it . . . even when I didn't know what I was missing." She patted the pendant. "And I missed you, Neal. So much. Now let's not waste any more time."

"Your wish is my command," he grinned, and mock-bowed to her.

"Smartass," she said, and pinched his behind playfully.

"Yup, that's me. I'm smart and I have a sexy ass," he smirked.

"Just get in here!" she growled, and then she dragged him into the bedroom.

He pushed the door shut with his foot and they fell on the bed, their hands undoing their clothing with the ease of long practice.

Then together they found their Tallahassee, or at least one version of it.

**A/N: Hope you all liked, and there's more to come soon!**


	12. Finding the Way Back Home

**12**

**Finding the Way Back Home**

**A/N: this is a rather intense chapter. So you might want to keep tisues handy. Let me know what you think!**

"Get away from me! Don't _touch_ me!"

Rumple shouted, flinging the covers off his lean frame and sitting up, his breath coming in shallow pants, his eyes wild. His hair straggled over part of his face and he clawed it out of his eyes, his fingers tangling in the silky strands.

"Rumple! Rumple, it's okay," Belle soothed, waking up when she heard him yelling. She sat up as well, one hand going to touch him automatically, bit then halting, because in the fearful anxious state he was in, touching him might set him off, and she didn't want to cause him to hurt her involuntarily.

She put her hand in her lap and spoke softly to him. "It's okay . . . it's just a dream. You're safe now. You're not in the cage anymore. You're home safe . . . with me. Remember?"

He had been having terrible nightmares this whole week since he had come home, where his mind kept replaying flashbacks of his time as Zelena's prisoner. Belle knew things had been done to him that he refused to tell her about . . . maybe because he was ashamed of them, and maybe because he couldn't even recall them, but she wished he would go and see Dr. Hopper.

Or just talk to someone else about what he had endured. But he was stubbornly keeping his walls up, and struggling to deal with his night terrors alone.

Slowly, Rumple felt the fog in his head clear and he recalled he was no longer in that dingy cage, but in his own room, his own home, and he had been so for a week, ever since destroying the witch and bringing Neal back by a retroverted sacrifice.

He rubbed his temples with his hands, trying to massage away the lingering guilt and shame he felt. Zelena's treatment of him had left him feeling lower than a piece of shit, and while he knew she was gone now and couldn't hurt him any longer, it didn't erase the feelings she had conjured and left to fester within him.

"Rumple . . . maybe you need to . . . talk to someone . . ." Belle suggested tentatively.

"No . . . I'm not making an appointment with Archie . . . I _can't_ . . . I know what he is, but the fact is, I'm not comfortable revealing my troubles to someone who . . . has never been where I've been . . . he might put labels on my condition and murmur some platitudes in my ear, but he can't really _understand_ where I've been through . . . because he's never been somebody's doll, someone's plaything . . ." He shivered and pulled the covers back around him.

Belle touched him gently on the shoulder. "You're right. _He_ can't. But Rumple, there _is_ someone who can."

"Who?"

"She's sitting beside you. _Me._ I was Regina's prisoner for over two decades, and even though a lot of that time is fuzzy, I still recall most of it. And what's more, I recall what it felt like to be her captive. I remember how helpless I felt, how I didn't even have control over my own body sometimes because of the meds and drugs they gave me. I felt like I was a marionette and someone was always pulling my strings. Before she cast the curse, I was a prisoner in her tower, and though she didn't kill me, she did . . . other unpleasant things to me with her magic . . ."

"She hurt you . . .oh, gods . . . what did she do? Compulsion, torture, I know all the black spells . . . I taught her some, and she learned the rest on her own . . . it's part of the Dark One curse . . . knowing all the curses . . ." His head drooped to his drawn up knees beneath the blanket and she could tell he was crying silently. "Belle . . . _tell_ me . . ."

She put her arm about him, and her lips close to his ear. "I will . . . if you'll tell me about what Zelena did to you . . . that's my deal, Rumple . . . an exchange of sorrows . . .because only this way . . . will we ever be free of the shadows . . . so will you speak to me, Rumple?"

He remained silent for several long moments, until at last he said hoarsely, "Very well. The deal is struck. But . . . you . . . might not like what I'm about to say . . . there are things she did . . .that still make me sick to my stomach . . . things that I long to forget . . . yet can't . . ." His hand clenched upon the cover. "Like her sister, Zelena was a dark witch . . . and though she claimed to "love" me, her cold heart loved only one person—herself. She wanted me, yes, but the way a child wants a new toy, or a sweet another child has, she fixated on me the way a girl does her first real crush . . . and she never let me go." He took a deep breath. "It didn't matter to her that I never loved her, never even would glance twice at her, she didn't care about _me_, about what I wanted, it was all about _her_. And I . . . I took great pains that she never found out about you because I knew . . . I _knew_ if she thought she had a rival for my affections, she would come after you . . . and she killed any and all those she felt stood in the way of her desires. So I had to keep you secret . . ."

Belle moistened her lips, then she forced herself to ask something. "Rumple . . . during the year she held you captive before Storybrooke . . . did she force you to . . . love her . . . with magic . . .?"

"A lust spell?" his mouth twisted. "No . . . but she tried other things to make me notice her . . . and when they didn't work she'd fly into a rage . . . and take her temper out on me . . ."

"What did she do?"

He coughed. "Oh, you know, the usual. Beatings with magical whips, making me stand under freezing sprays of water, then leaving me in my cage soaking wet, forcing me to kneel to her, kiss her feet . . .say I loved her . . . but everything she did was because of the dagger's thrall . . . it wasn't anything I chose . . ."

Belle could feel her heart shatter as he revealed the depths of the misery and deprivation he'd endured. "Ah . . . gods . . . Rumple . . . I'm so sorry . . . so sorry we failed to get the dagger from her . . .then you wouldn't have endured the things she did . . ." Bitter tears seeped from her closed eyes and fell upon his shoulder.

"Don't . . ." he rasped, turning his head slightly, peering at her from his curtain of hair, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. " . . . you're not to blame . . . this is all due to my curse . . . a curse dark as midnight . . .the dagger which was the source of all my power . . . was also the source of my greatest weakness . . .but my greatest fear wasn't losing my power . . . it was hurting you . . ." He reached out and gently caught her tears on his finger, then touched his lips. "I feel your sorrow, love, and your pain . . ."

She copied him, taking a tear from his eye and doing the same. "Your sorrow is mine . . .and a sorrow shared can be conquered, Rumple . . ." She leaned her head on his shoulder, and began to speak of her days in the asylum . . . and in Regina's tower . . .

"The solitude and confinement were the worst in either place, because it left me with time on my hands . . . and time for my fertile brain to imagine all kinds of horrible things happening to you . . . Regina would taunt me, you see . . . she would come and tell me all the horrible things she was going to do once she found you . . . like skin you for your golden hide, make some boots out of you . . . cut off your head and mount it on her wall, but leave just enough of you inside of it so you could . . . instruct her on certain things." Belle swallowed hard, for recalling such things made her sick. "And she made sure I believed her . . . because she would bring examples with her . . . so I could see what she was capable of . . .and she would show me with her mirror all the things she would do to you . . . I realize now she never tried to do half of it . . . but it was a way she could torment me and she loved making me cry . . . I tried not to, but sometimes it was overwhelming—the fear, the uncertainty, the loss of hope-and there were times I would curl up against the wall and cry until I fell asleep . . . I did that in the asylum too, only there I couldn't even remember your name, just that there was someone I had lost . . . and I missed him like I would miss my left arm . . ."

Rumple's hand moved then, and rubbed her back gently. "That was the way I missed you . . . and never more so than when that bitch was strutting up and down in front of my cage like a dog in heat . . . showing off her assets-not that I was ever interested—like some puffed up preening rooster—or a whore peddling herself on the street corner . . .She used to show me her new outfits, like I was some fashion show guru . . . parading up and down and flirting with me . . . I wanted to throw up . . . but I had to watch . . . until she left . . . and then I puked my guts out . . . but even watching her made me feel guilty . . . and having her touch me . . . made me feel filthy, like I'd touched slime . . . or been smeared in horseshit . . .even now, though I scrub myself raw, I can't get rid of the taint . . ."

Belle shifted, and took her hand in his. Though he was slight and small for a man, his hand was still larger than her own. She gently turned it over, and caressed his palm with her fingers, tracing the calluses from spinning, the small scars he'd gathered from paper cuts and cuts from an athame for blood magic. Then she bent her head and kissed his hand. "Your touch excites me and delights me like none other . . . and whatever she did to you . . . she could never touch what we have, because what we have is something so foreign to her, she wouldn't even know what it was. Her kind recognizes only their own twisted parody of love, not true love itself. Because her sort of love-if you can call it that—takes and gives nothing. But our love-it gives everything away and in so doing gains everything. You have nothing to be ashamed of, Rumple . . . what was taken unwillingly was never given up in the first place . . ."

She kissed his palm and then his wrist.

"But I _did_ give you up . . . I made myself forget . . . and I lost you all over again, Belle . . . I lost you to the dark . . . until the day you showed up in the basement . . . and my heart remembered again . . ."

"But I was always there, Rumple . . . never really forgotten . . . anymore than I really forgot you in the asylum," Belle told him, stroking his hair. "Oh, I might have forgotten your name, who you were, in a way, but I never really forgot you totally. I _always_ knew, except in some of my worst hallucinations, that there was someone out there who loved me and who I loved . . . and someday, somehow we would be together. I spent half my days in a drug-induced fog, with nurses who dealt with all my personal needs . . . like I was a doll . . ." she grimaced. "But the one thing that kept me sane . . . was knowing you were somewhere out there . . ."

His hand reached up then and cupped her cheek. "You were the last light in a dark place when all other lights have gone out. . . and you always have been . . .but . . . can you truly want this . . .wreck of what I was . . .?"

"Rumple, I _love_ you . . all of you . . . and you'll heal in time . . . I'll help you . . . and you'll help me . . . and together we'll become better . . .but you need to trust me . . ."

"I'm trying, Belle . . ."

"I know. And so am I. Little by little, we'll get you back."

"Get us both back," he corrected, and then he kissed her, one gentle, slow kiss, a reaffirmation of what they had been, and a hope for what they could be.

And if tears mingled together on their tongue neither noticed.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Gradually, they reestablished a routine together, and she returned to work at the library and he returned to his shop, finding solace in doing ordinary things, as other people did them. Some mornings, after his customary hot shower, he would cook breakfast, and other times she would, making different dishes to surprise the other, and rediscovering each other's likes and dislikes anew.

While he still had night terrors, they were slowly decreasing in strength, as he practiced meditation and drank his herbal teas again before bed, and Belle always was there to hold and comfort him, her very presence driving away the lingering ghost of the green bitch.

In the beginning, his loathing of his captivity and the memories it spawned made him physically ill—pounding headaches and nausea—on any given morning those first few weeks it was a toss-up whether or not his stomach would rebel and he'd end up puking first thing in the morning.

Once he'd joked to her that, "Now I know how it feels to have morning sickness, Belle. It sucks!"

That made her laugh, despite her concern over his state of mind and his queasiness. And she would make him chamomile tea with honey and give him Saltines to eat until his stomach settled down again.

They would have "sessions" with each other, usually in the early morning, after he'd woken from another nightmare, or sometimes before bed, sharing each other's stories of their captivity and slowly healing each other's invisible wounds. The sharing was usually accompanied by lots of hugs, kisses, and more than once crying unashamedly in the other's arms.

Rumple began spinning again, not just straw into gold this time, but ordinary wool and cotton into silk and other fabrics, the motion of the wheel relaxing him and soothing him as good as meditation ever did. He invited Henry over the house, and taught his grandson to spin and weave too, and proudly wore a scarf Henry had woven of gold cloth, saying he was happy to pass down his knowledge to the next generation.

Belle and he went for long walks in the woods, and to the cabin, absorbing the quiet beauty of nature, and taking pleasure in each other's company. Always before they had been running to something or away from something, and never had time to spend just in each other's company, the way they did now.

They discovered that it was the little ordinary things that caused their love to rekindle, like holding hands as they walked down a trail, her head in his lap while he played with her hair, his head on her shoulder while she read to him. A thousand gestures, in a thousand ways, every day, showed her love for him, and his for her.

Until one night, he turned to her and said, "I'm done, dearie. Done with the guilt, done with the regret. And done with her claiming any more of my life than she has already. I've sent her ghost wailing alone into the dark . . . never to be resurrected again. Now there's only us."

Then he kissed her the way he had done long ago, with all the passion in his heart, and she kissed him back, her face alight with love, and he followed her light through the darkness, finding his way home once more.

Then together they celebrated his homecoming, making it a night to be remembered, for the rest of their days and beyond.

As the dawn broke over the horizon, heralding a lovely spring day, the phone beside the bed rang.

Rumple summoned it off the base on the dresser and answered it. "Hello?" It was only 7:30 AM. "Bae? Is something wrong?"

"Papa, hi! Sorry to wake you, but . . . I wanted to know if you wanted to go fishing with me and Henry. Henry wants to show me how well he learned to fish from Leroy and . . . err . . . I remember when we used to go fishing back in our old realm. So . . . you busy?"

"At the moment . . . kind of. But give me an hour and a half and I'll meet you at the lake. You want me to bring something for lunch?"

"Uh . . . if you want. Yeah, sure!"

"Okay. I'll see you soon, Bae." Then he hung up and turned to Belle, who had her head on his pillow. "Bae invited me to go fishing with him and Henry . . . and I said I would. So I guess I'm going to be closed today."

"Today's Friday, Rumple. And you haven't taken a day off since you've gotten home. So do it. I'll pack you a picnic basket before I go into the library. And you just . . . have fun, okay!"

Belle smiled at him. Some bonding time with his son and grandson was just what she thought Rumple needed.

"Okay, dearie. And if we catch any fish, will you cook them?"

"I will . . . I just need to bring home a fish cookbook," she chuckled, then she kissed the tip of his nose. "I love you, Rumple! Now go play! Because you know the old saying—all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

He raised an eyebrow. "Something tells me I ought to follow that advice . . . or else I'll end up arguing all day, and that's not how I want to spend my day." He rose to his feet. "You have a good day at work, dearie."

Then he bent and kissed her fiercely. "A kiss for remembrance," he teased.

"Get on with you, Rumple!" she grinned, and then she reached out and smacked his behind playfully. "Because if you don't, I'm tempted to drag you back to bed and play a different kind of game with you."

"Really, dearie? I might just cancel that fishing trip then."

"Don't you dare! You're going! And I'm going to work!"

"As you wish," he said, and bowed to her, smirking.

"Smartass."

"Guilty," he laughed, then he stole another kiss before he limped into the bathroom, saying over his shoulder, "But I'm a lovable smartass."

Belle just smiled as he disappeared into the other room. At long last, her Rumplestiltskin was back.


	13. Fishing Trip

**13**

**Fishing Trip**

"I haven't gotten a bite in ten minutes!" groaned Henry as he sat in the middle of the boat with his line in the water.

"Pull up that line, kid, and let me check it," Neal ordered, and when his son had done so, went to examine the line. "Well, that explains it. The trout ate your bait and left. Papa, looks like we have a sneak thief in this lake."

Rumple calmly reeled in a fish, but then removed it and threw it back, for it was a baby one. "It does seem that way, Bae. And you remember the last one we had like that—in the pond back by our old village?"

Neal nodded. "I sure do. It was eating all the worms and nightcrawlers I put on my line . . . until you tickled it to death, Papa."

Henry stared at his father. "He _what?"_

"You heard me," Neal chuckled.

"Dad, how can you tickle a fish?"

"Would you like to see?" asked Rumple.

Henry nodded. Suddenly things had gotten ten times more interesting. "Sure, Grandpa! How do you do that?"

"Watch and learn, Henry," Rumple said, then he stowed his fishing gear in the bottom of the little boat and leaned over and put his two hands and forearms into the water. "Now, the secret to trout tickling is to remain very very _still_. So the fish thinks you're just a dead log or something when he swims up to investigate. You remain like that for . . . a good ten to fifteen seconds while he circles around you . . ." As Rumple spoke, the actual trout was swimming up to see what was in the water.

Henry's eyes widened. "Grandpa, I see it! He's right there!"

"Shh, kid! You'll scare him away," Neal reprimanded softly.

"Ooops! Sorry!" Henry murmured.

Rumple remained silent and still as a statue. Then he moved his fingers ever so slowly over the trout's body, tickling it gently. The fish swam lazily through the placid water . . . until Rumple snatched it up with his lightning quick reflexes . . . and tossed the large trout into the bottom of the boat, where it flopped about.

"Cool! You got him!" Henry grinned like a kid who was told Christmas came early.

Neal bent and put the fish into the bucket with some water in it, to preserve their catch till they reached land. "I told you he would."

"And that's how you tickle a trout," Rumple smiled. "Nice to know I haven't lost my touch."

"That was awesome!" Henry gave Rumple a look of hero-worship. "And you didn't even use magic!"

"Now why would I do that?" Rumple chuckled. "That' d take all the fun out of fishing."

"How'd you learn how to do that?" was Henry's next question.

"Well . .. one day I couldn't find a stout enough stick for a pole, so I decided to see if I could catch fish another way. An old man in my village had told stories about when he was a lad, and how he could catch a fish with his bare hands. Everyone laughed and said he was going batty, that it was just a tall tale. Except for me. He told me it required patience and quickness, and anyone could do it . . . if they took the time. So I did. It took me days to master the trick, but once I did . . . I could tickle trout with the best of them. And that little thing kept me and the spinsters who looked after me fed during the hard times, when the duke and his men demanded a tithe of one half of all our profits for his army. We would have starved if not for my little trick . . . and I offered to teach it to the other boys, but they laughed at me and said I was just another coward, so who cared?"

"They were dumb!" Henry said heatedly.

"Dumb as a box of rocks," Neal agreed. "I tried to learn, but I couldn't. Didn't have the patience to sit still that long."

"Can you teach me?" Henry pleaded. "I wanna try."

Rumple nodded. "Yes. Now roll up your sleeves and be prepared to get wet . . ."

They spent the rest of the afternoon with Rumple instructing Henry on the fine art of trout tickling and Neal fishing off the opposite end of the boat.

By the time Henry said he was starving, Rumple said, "You can practice some more another time, dearie. It takes a while to get the hang of it. After all, Rome wasn't built in a day."

"Right," Henry said, and dried off his arms with a towel. He was a little disappointed, but not much. "This was such a cool day! I liked it better than when David taught me how to drive."

Neal almost dropped his fishing pole into the lake. "Say _what_?"

"Uh . . . you know, Dad? It was when you were . . err . . . asleep . . . David wanted to do something with me because I said he was sort of . . . boring . .. so he let me drive his truck down the road. And it was kind of fun . . . except for the parts where I ran over people's mailboxes. And once I took out a lawn gnome, but he said it was okay."

"Are you _kidding_ me?" Neal sputtered. "Who the hell teaches a twelve-year-old how to drive a car?"

"Charming," Rumple replied, rolling his eyes. "I guess he thinks that the rules of the road don't apply to him and anyone he lets drive his truck. Because he wants to be seen as the fun grandfather." His tone was slightly mocking. "And of course that takes precedence over Henry's safety and those of others."

"What a jackass!" Neal fumed. "Does your mom know about this?"

"Uh . . . I think David told her he just took me around," hedged his son.

"So she doesn't know the whole story. My God! What an irresponsible . . . _jerk_!" snapped Neal, though he bit off what he really wanted to say, since Henry was there.

"Well, let's hope he's matured some now that he's a father again," Rumple remarked. "And perhaps you can discuss that incident with him, Bae, and make sure nothing like that happens again in the future."

Henry cocked his head at his dad. "You sound really ticked, Dad. I didn't . . . hurt anything, you know."

"Henry, that doesn't matter, and while I'm glad you didn't have an accident, the fact is you should have never been behind the wheel," Neal objected. "You're supposed to be sixteen before you get a learner's permit here, and you're only twelve! You said you ran over some mailboxes? Well, I hope David paid the owners of them for destruction of private property. Because it's his fault that happened."

Henry considered. "I . . . didn't really think about it at the time," he admitted. "Mom wanted me to hang out with them, and he just asked if I wanted to learn how to drive and I said yes. I thought it was gonna be easy, like a video game."

"But it's not, kid. And I'm not blaming you so much as your grandfather there. _He's_ an adult, he ought to know better. If he wanted to show you a good time, he could have taken you to the movies, or hiking, or horseback riding, or fishing like we're doing. Something fun where you're not breaking the law," Neal lectured. _Ha, and I'm a fine one to talk, since that's what I was doing when I was fourteen. But that was me, and I stole to survive. I don't want Henry doing what I did. Hell, no!_

Suddenly, Henry saw a flickering shape in the water. "Look! I see a fish! Lemme see if I can tickle it!" He leaned over and plunged his hands into the water.

"Be careful, Henry! You're leaning over too far!" warned Neal.

"Aww, Dad! Quit worrying! I'm fine! And I'm gonna get this trout!" bragged his son.

Rumple raised an eyebrow. "Watch yourself, son. Like they say over here, pride goes before a fall."

"Grandpa, I can do it! Just watch me!" his grandson stated boldly.

Then he leaned over a bit too far . .. and fell right in the lake!

"Henry!" gasped Neal.

"I told you so, boy," Rumple snickered.

Henry splashed to the surface, grinning cheekily. "Umm . . . guess I should have listened to you, Grandpa."

"You okay, kid?" asked Neal, holding out a hand to his son.

"Uh huh. I'm not gonna drown, I know how to swim."

"Crazy little idiot!" Neal said, laughing. "Here. Take my hand." He was concerned over getting his son out of the water and so missed the gleam of mischief in Henry's eyes.

The next thing he knew, his son had pulled him over the side of the boat and into the water.

"Ahh!" Neal sputtered. "You little _brat!_"

Henry was laughing. "Gotcha!"

Neal swam over to his smirking son and dunked him under the water. "I'll teach you to throw me in the water, kid!"

Henry shoved his father and they engaged in a splashing fight, both of them giggling like demented hyenas.

Rumple watched, his eyes crinkling in merriment, and thought how wonderful it was to see his boys playing . . . and just horsing around having fun . . . without being threatened by wicked witches or murderous magical boys, or crazy people who hated magic users. His mouth quirked in a smile. This . . . was how it should be, he thought.

And he felt completely at peace.

Henry stopped splashing Neal long enough to whisper, "Dad, let's prank Grandpa!"

"What? Are you crazy? He'll whip our butts," Neal coughed. "You forget he can do magic?"

"Nooo . . . but he'd never really hurt us," Henry said. "C'mon, Dad! It'll be fun!"

Neal shook his head. "Okay, kid. But it's your funeral!" Then they swam under the water and stealthily crept around the side of the boat.

Rumple frowned and looked across the water. "Bae? Henry? Now where'd you go?"

"Surprise!" two chorused . . . and then they pushed Rumple into the lake.

"Hey! You wretched little . . .!" sputtered the sorcerer, shaking his wet hair out of his eyes.

Neal swam up next to him. "Papa, it was Henry's idea . . ."

"Hey, don't blame it all on me . . ." cried Henry.

"You're both in trouble!" Rumple mock-threatened, then he swam after the two.

Unbeknowest to his two boys, Gold could swim . . . like a fish, the water buoyed him up and his leg was no hindrance in the water. He used his magic to get rid of his life vest, shirt, and shoes, and swam like a barracuda after his giggling smirking son and grandson.

"Dad, you think Grandpa's okay?" Henry asked, looking around the lake and not seeing the older man. "I mean . . . he _is_ kinda old . . ."

"Old? You watch your mouth, boy!" scolded Rumple, popping up behind Henry. "I'll show you old, Henry Mills!" Then he pulled his grandson under the water.

"Ahhh . . . Dad . .. help . . . shark . . .!"

Neal went and splashed Rumple, saying, "No fair using magic, Papa!"

"I'm not using magic, you young imp!" Rumple snorted. "I'm a naturally good swimmer!" He released Henry and dove under the surface.

Neal turned, ready to fend off an attack by Rumple.

Suddenly he felt something grab his foot! Then start _tickling _ it!

"Nooo!" Neal thrashed about, trying to escape Rumple's devilishly quick fingers. "Hahaha . . . Papa . . . stop . . . please . . .!"

"Dad, what's going on?" asked Henry.

"Henry . . . he's . . . ahahaha . . . tickling me . . ." Neal was almost doubled over with laughter, tears mixing with the water on his face. "Papa . . . I surrender!"

Rumple popped his head up out of the water. "That'll teach you to mess with the Mage of Light and Dark, eh?" He was smirking like the Cheshire cat.

"Okay . . ." Neal gasped, his eyes, so like his papa's shining with mirth.

Just then Henry darted over to Rumple and tried to dunk him.

"Really, dearie?" Rumple flashed him a wicked grin. "Looks like a certain little boy's forgotten his manners!"

Then he caught Henry in his arms and threw the youngster across the lake.

As the boy's head went under he cried, "No fair, Grandpa!"

"All's fair in love, war, and water fights!" cackled Rumple.

The three spent a good half-an-hour playing in the water . . . until Henry complained he was cold and hungry, then they climbed back in the boat and Rumple dried them off with a spell and Neal brought them back to shore.

As they got out, Neal said to Rumple, "I haven't played like that in years, Papa."

"Me neither. I . . . missed it," Rumple admitted.

"It was great! Though you almost drowned me," his grandson said.

"Oh hush your grousing, boy!" Rumple smirked, and ruffled Henry's hair affectionately. "You're still alive to complain, aren't you?"

Neal found himself smiling at his father. He hadn't seen this side of Rumple in . . . too long. Especially after what Zelena had done to him. He counted it a miracle that Rumple was finally healing after all the torment that bitch had put him through.

"Let's see what Belle packed. All of a sudden I could eat a horse!"

"You sound like you did when you were fourteen, Bae. You almost ate the kitchen table once," teased the former spinner.

"Stop it, Papa! You're exaggerating," Neal scolded.

"Only a little. You were like a bottomless pit," Rumple snickered. "I ought to know, I was the one who was making meals for you." He set the picnic basket on the ground by an oak tree.

Then he lifted the lid and peered inside. There was a large checked blue and white cloth, which he gave to Henry and Neal to spread on the ground. Then he handed them plastic plates, cups and plastic forks and spoons.

Inside was a thermos of cold lemonade, and thick sandwiches of roast beef and provolone with lettuce and mayo, ham salad with cheddar cheese on pumpernickel, big juicy garlic dill pickles, a package of cheese doodles, and carrot sticks with ranch dressing. For dessert there were oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

"This looks amazing!" Henry exclaimed.

Rumple put all the food in the middle of the blanket and they all ate everything, finding that hunger added an extra special taste to all of it. They devoured almost everything, and then Henry curled up on the grass, with his head in Neal's lap and fell asleep.

"Looks like we tired him out, huh, Papa?"

Rumple smiled. "I remember you doing that to me quite a bit."

"You made a good pillow," Neal joked.

"Thanks so much," the pawnbroker pretended to be annoyed, but the sparkle in his eyes belied his affronted tone. "I . . . I'm so glad you're back, Bae. All that time I spent as Zelena's captive . . . I knew I could endure it if I could just save you again."

"And you did, Papa. Like always," Neal said sincerely. "I know that I haven't always been appreciative of that . . . but I'm trying to do better . . . and I'm glad you're back too."

Hearing those words nearly brought the sorcerer to tears. "You know that my family means everything to me, right?"

"I know . . . and it does to me too." Neal paused to drink some more lemonade. "Uh . . . this might sound crazy but . . . when I was . . . err . . . sleeping or in a coma or whatever you call it . . . I had some pretty weird dreams . . . like the one where I dreamed I was a little kid again, and I was running away from you down the yellowbrick road . . . and the witch came and you saved me from her, Papa. Isn't that just . . . weird?"

Rumple remained silent for a few moments. He couldn't believe what Neal had just told him. Finally he said, "No . . . what's strange is . . . I had the same dream, Bae . . . the _very_ same one . . .we shared each other's dreams . . ."

"Papa . . . how is that possible?"

"Well . . . I'm not really sure . . . except . .. somehow our . . . spirits connected when I . . . suspended you, Bae. So we could . . . merge each other's dreams. It's not something that happens very often . . . and it only does when certain people are . . . close to each other."

"Like us," mused Neal. He smiled at his father. He had missed this kind of thing, and didn't even realize it until now. "Will it happen again?"

"Uh . . . it's always possible. Would it bother you?" he asked diffidently.

"No. I don't mind, Papa." Neal reassured him. "Unless you scare the crap out of me with a nightmare."

"I haven't been having too many of those lately, thanks to Belle."

"That's good. I'm glad. You think that green bitch is roasting in hell?"

"Right next to Cora and my father," Rumple said tightly.

"It's what she deserves. You know, Papa, I have to go shopping."

"Oh? For what?"

"A ring for Emma."

"Ah. Would you like company?"

"Yes . . . that'd be great. Will you be getting one for Belle?"

"Of course. And we can help pick each other's out."

"Like when we used to pick out dye to color our thread. Or cheese and sausage for supper," Neal recalled.

"Well, this is a wee bit more important than your stomach, Bae."

"Haha, Papa. I know. But I'm excited about it."

"And so am I. How about we do that on Monday?"

"Sounds good to me," Neal said, and then he lay back on the grass with his hands behind his head, enjoying the sereneness of this picnic spot, as well as his son's head on his lap and his father's presence beside him. And for the first time in a long time, Baelfire was content.

Rumple watched his two boys dozing and allowed himself to do so as well, leaning back against the tree, using a bit of magic to make it soft for his head, and some more to make sure no one made off with their boat or their catch before drifting off to sleep. This had been such a good day, and he was glad Belle had convinced him to go on this fishing trip. And tonight would be even better . . . once he got home and changed, he thought with a wicked smirk. Then his eyes closed and he slept.


	14. Rings and Things

**14**

**Rings and Things**

Neal drifted into a doze after he'd made love to Emma for the fourth time that night, celebrating their successful fishing trip with his father, and also the fact that this was their "anniversary", the day when he'd first met her in Portland when she'd tried to steal the yellow Bug . . . which he'd stolen. He'd have liked to propose to her today, but he hadn't picked out a ring yet and didn't want to rush things. Enough things had been rushed in their lives for him to do so with his proposal.

So, when they were finally alone, after Henry had gone to bed, he'd happily indulged himself in some rather wicked foreplay and then spent most of the night having sweet lovemaking sessions with his beloved wild swan . . . something they hadn't done much of since his return, since Emma had been busy most nights with her job and too tired to make love afterwards.

Now he was lingering in that "afterglow" state, drifting in and out of sleep, snuggled next to Emma, who was totally asleep and curled in his arms, her fair hair spread out on the pillow, and tickling his nose, when he heard his phone go off.

_Someone's texting me . . ._ he thought sleepily, rolling over to peer at his phone on the nightstand. The ringtone coming from it was Queen's "It's a Kind of Magic", the theme song from the show "Highlander". _That's Papa. Holy hells, what's happened now?_

He picked up his phone and saw there was a text from Rumple.

_Bae, you awake? Sorry to call you at this hour, son._

Neal quickly typed a reply. _Papa, what's happened? Is something wrong with you? Belle? _

Then he waited until the ringtone came on again and his father's message flashed onscreen.

_No, Belle's asleep. I wish I was too . . . but . . . I had . . . a nightmare. I'm so sorry I woke you, Bae. I'm a basket case. So sorry._

Neal sighed. He was a little tired and would have preferred to go back to bed, but his father needed him. He knew Rumple's emotional state was still rocky, that even with Belle's home therapy sessions, Rumple was still rather fragile due to his torture at Zelena's hands. And Neal would never turn away his father at this stage of the game.

So he typed rapidly, _It's OK, Papa. What's up? I was awake anyway._

Then he waited and waited for Rumple's reply.

Finally "It's A Kind of Magic" played again.

_I . . . I thought my nightmares vanquished along with that green bitch, Bae. But . . . they're not. Tonight . . . tonight I dreamed . . . about being the Dark One . . . and I . . . I threw Belle out of my castle . . .like I did before . . . I threw her out . . . I betrayed her . . . Bae . . I don't understand . . .why am I dreaming about that . . .? Why? I don't want to lose Belle. She's my last light in a dark place. Without her I am nothing . . .yet all I want right now is to just . . . run away. I'm such a coward!_

Neal shook his head sadly. All of his father's insecurities were coming home to roost, it seemed.

_Papa, it was just a dream? Did you and Belle have a fight? Is that why you're dreaming this?_

_No. No. I came home . . . she cooked the trout I caught . . . we had a lovely dinner and . . . err . . .a nice time afterwards too . . ._ Neal could practically see Rumple's smirk while he blushed.

_So you're just nervous, Papa. Hey, it happens._

_Bae . . . I'm not good enough for her. I never was. Why the hell does she even want me to marry her?_

_Because she loves you, Papa. Like Emma loves me._

_But . . . who could ever love a monster like me?_

_You're not a monster, Papa. You're not the Dark One anymore, remember? Abraxus freed you from that curse. Now you can just be . . . Rumplestiltskin Gold . . ._

_I'm still a sorcerer . . ._

_I know. But you're not what you were. You're a gray practitioner, you can use light and dark magic and not pay the same price you did before._

_All magic comes with a price, Bae. And I still pay it,_ Rumple reminded him. _That hasn't changed. What has changed is my intentions. I intend to use mostly light magic now . . . and only in defense of my life and my family shall I ever touch dark magic again. But even so . . . I feel tainted still . . ._

Neal got up and went into the kitchen to make himself some tea, carrying the phone in the pocket of his pajama pants. As he put the kettle on to boil he typed back.

_Papa, Abraxus absolved you or whatever you call it from what Zelena made you do. You're back to being the good man you were, the spinner, Papa. Even with magic. Belle loves you, Papa. She always has._

_But why? Bae, why does she love me?_

_For the same reason Emma loves me, Papa. Because, despite everything we've done, they see something there that we never did. They see goodness, and light, and love. You're not the only one who screwed up. I did too . . . and like you I feel like I can never make it up to her. But you know what, Papa? She doesn't want me to. She wants me to learn from the past and then leave it go. To forgive myself and to let the wounds heal. For good._

_Do you think . . . Belle wants that for me too?_ Neal could almost see the heartache on his father's face as he typed. The desperation that he would lose the one he loved most over the mistakes of the past.

_She does, Papa. Just like me. We want you to be happy. You deserve it._

_So do you, Bae._

_We both do. Actually, we **all** do. How are you feeling? You okay?_

_I . . . I'm not going to throw up, if that's what you're getting at._

Neal smirked at the somewhat snarky reply. _Just making sure. It's really hard to get puke outta your phone._

_Don't be a smartass, Baelfire!_

Neal started laughing quietly. _Who me?_

_Don't split hairs with ME, young man!_

Neal smirked. _Papa, I'm not. I think you're sleep deprived._

_Excuse me?_

_You're half-asleep, you don't know what you're saying. Or seeing._

_Are you implying I'm crazy?_

_Nah. Well . . . maybe a little . . .haha . . . only kidding!_

_Baelfire, I swear . . ._

_Gotcha, Papa!_

_Maybe I ought to come over there and beat some manners into you, boy!_

_Beat me? You gonna start now? You never did before._

_Maybe I should have!_ There was a pause. Then the ringtone again. _But it's too late now, I guess. I'm stuck with a smartass son._

_But you love me anyway, right?_

_Do I REALLY need to answer that?_

_Papa!_

_Yes! Now stop getting hysterical._

_Hysterical? I'm not a girl!_

_Did I say you were? And you're lucky Emma can't read what you've just texted. She'd punch you out._

_Only if you tell her. You won't, will you? I mean, you want me to attend my own wedding, right?_

_You want to make a deal with me?_

**_What?_**

_Just kidding . . .LOL!_

_OMG, Papa!_

_Next time don't try to pull one over on me, Bae . . . I'm your father, remember?_

_Yeah, Papa. How could I forget?_

_You sassing me, boy?_

_Nope. Just stating a fact._

_Watch the tone, Baelfire._

_Papa, I'm **texting**. How can I have a tone?_

_You just do._

_I'm twenty-nine, for Godsake._

_There . . . you see. You have a tone._

_OMG! You're so . . . medieval!_

_Meaning what?_

_Meaning sometimes you treat me like I'm fourteen._

_You didn't sass me half as much when you were fourteen._

_Well, you didn't raise any stupid kids, Papa. I wanted to live to fifteen._

_Well, at least I did something right._

_You did a lot of things right. I just didn't appreciate them then. But now I do. So . . . we still going to pick out rings?_

_Yes. But . . . I've been thinking . . ._

_A dangerous pastime._

_Will you STOP quoting Beauty and the Beast at me?_

_You recognized it then?_

_I'm not senile yet, boy! Now . . . as I was saying . . . I've been thinking that maybe I could . . spin some raw gold into bands for our rings . . . one for you and one for me . . . and we could pick out the stones to go in them._

_Papa, that's brilliant! What are you going to make me?_

_It's a surprise. You'll see it when I'm done._

_Aww! C'mon!_

_No begging!_

_You're terrible!_

_I know. I'm terrible and you're going to run away from home and live with Morraine._

_Did I really say that?_

_You did. You were mad at me because I wouldn't let you go play with the other boys because the soldiers were near our village hunting for likely kids to draft into the army. _

_My God! I was a little snot._

_You were twelve. It's the age. _

_Man, is this what I'm gonna have to look forward to with Henry?_

_You'll survive. I did._

_Thanks, Papa._

_Meet me at my shop on Monday. I'll have the ring bands done by then._

_It's not too much for you?_

_Is that some kind of polite way of telling me I'm old?_

_Hey, you said it!_

_Baelfire, I swear . . ._

_LOL, Papa! Good night!_

Neal clicked his phone off.

Ten seconds later it rang again. _Baelfire, you HUNG UP on me!_

_Oops! Papa, it wasn't me it was the phone . . ._

_Now you're lying._

_No! I am not!_

_Don't try and snowblow me or whatever you call it. You don't lie any better now than you did when you were twelve and ate all the cookies in the cookie jar and blamed it on the goat!_

_I was hungry!_

_Go to sleep, Bae! _

_Okay, Papa. Night!_

_Good night. Sweet dreams._

_You too. Bye!_

Then he tucked the phone back in his pocket and finished drinking his tea. When he went back into the bedroom, Emma had rolled over onto his side of the bed, and he spent ten minutes trying to move her over before he could get back into it. "You're so lucky I love you, Swan," he grunted as he crawled beneath the covers.

In Gold's Victorian, Rumple snuggled down next to Belle and fell into a deep untroubled sleep at last . . . his ghosts laid to rest . . . for now.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Rumple spun all day on Saturday and into the wee hours of the morning on Sunday. It wasn't that he needed a lot of gold to actually make the two bands, but he was experimenting with them, and trying out different ones. Finally, after about a hundred copies of different styles and so forth, he settled on two that he thought fit perfectly.

Satisfied with his choices, he melted the others down and created a bar of gold which he tucked in his safe, then he went upstairs to bed, and slept like a baby until morning, when he awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs and toast.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Neal was outside Gold's pawnshop at noon when Gold came up and said, "Now don't pace a hole in the sidewalk, Bae."

Neal jumped. "Papa! You almost gave me a heart attack."

"You mean you didn't hear me?"

"Not without your cane. You move like a ghost," his son chuckled.

"Would you like to see your ring?"

"You know I would," Neal said eagerly.

Gold withdrew a small white box from his right pocket. "Here you go. It's all ready for the stone you choose."

Neal opened the box. Nestled inside was gorgeous glittering gold band of tri-color gold strands wound around each other and then all three merged into a pair of wings—swan wings—that were ready to cradle whatever stone Bae picked out. Words failed him. Then he said, hoarsely, "Papa . . . it's . . . incredible! It's perfect! Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome. If . . . If there's something you don't like, let me know."

"No. It's amazing!" Bae gazed at the band in awe. Then he tucked it in his pocket and said, "Let me see yours."

Rumple withdrew a second box, this one in midnight blue velvet, from his left pocket. His ring setting was a pure shimmering gold band that had three separate places for stones to go, like the branches of the blue willow on his chipped cup. Two branches were on the sides and the third was for the largest stone. Inside the band was an eternity knot and the stylized letters "R" and "B".

"Whoa!" Neal whistled. "Papa, that's so awesome!"

"Do you think so, Bae?" Rumple sounded pleased.

"It's fabulous," his son reassured him. "Now . . . let's go to the jewelers."

In Storybrooke, there was only one jeweler, and he was one of the seven dwarves—Bashful, who used his talent for mining gemstones to create lovely and unique pieces of jewelry for every occasion. Though until now, there hadn't been a wedding in Storybrooke. Now though, there would be two.

When Gold and Neal entered his store, Bashful looked up in surprise. "Mr. Gold? Neal?"

"Hello. We're here to . . . uh . . . see some stones for . . .an engagement ring . . ." Neal began.

"I see. Do you wish to see traditional diamonds or other gemstones as well?"

"Both, please."

So Bashful got out his jeweler's loup and his trays of diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, fire opals, and the like and set them on the counter.

Together, Neal and Rumple pored over the stones, discussing the merits and flaws of each, the size, the shape, and how it would look in the setting. Finally, Bae chose a beautiful star sapphire for his stone, and asked Bashful to please put it in the setting, and gave him the ring.

Rumple finally chose a triple set of stones, two small clear blue diamonds and the center stone was a brilliant fire opal that shifted colors from purple to blue to gold as the light struck it. "I think this will be lovely," Rumple said, and gave the ring to Bashful so he could set the stones in it.

Bashful completed the work in two hours and the rings were both ready when Neal and Rumple returned to pick them up after lunch at Granny's. Both men felt their hearts flutter slightly when they picked up the rings, and both were planning very romantic evenings for their true loves that night.

"Wish me luck, Papa," Neal joked.

"Why? You getting cold feet?"

"No . . .but Emma might."

"I doubt it, son. Though I'm beginning to think I need my head examined. Or Belle does for wanting to marry me," Rumple said nervously.

"Don't sweat it, Papa. Remember, she loves you and you love her. That's the important part," Neal soothed.

"Right. I'll just keep repeating that," Rumple said, and patted the ring in his pocket.

Neal clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll be fine, Papa. I'm the one who might forget how to talk and totally stammer like a fool."

"Breathe, Baelfire," advised Rumple.

"You too. Because Belle won't be impressed if you pass out in the middle of asking her," Neal teased.

"Smartass!" Rumple mock-growled.

"Like father, like son," Neal laughed, then ducked Rumple's playful swat on the back of the head.

**A/n: So who liked the Papafire bonding here? And who can't wait for the double proposal and the wedding to come? **


	15. The Best of Me

**15**

**The Best of Me**

_Gold's Victorian:_

After a delectable dinner of eggplant parmesan, penne with vodka sauce, and fresh rosemary bread, eaten by candlelight, with some classical music playing in the background, Rumple said to Belle, "Would you like some tea, dearie?"

"I'd love some," Belle said, smiling at him. "I'll get it."

"No. No, just sit there," he instructed. "Tonight, I'm going to serve you."

Belle quirked an eyebrow at him. "Rumple, I'm perfectly capable of getting tea."

"I know . . . but I want to tonight," he said, and playfully tapped her on the nose. "So you just sit here, sweetheart, and listen to the music. I'll be back soon." Then he vanished, only to reappear in front of his curio cabinet where his favorite Royal Dalton blue willow tea set was stored. He opened the cabinet and removed the chipped cup from its place.

Tonight it would serve two purposes.

Belle relaxed in her chair at the table while her beloved bustled about in the kitchen and got the tea things together on a chased silver tray. She thought about how far they had come in the weeks Rumple had been freed from Zelena and how he was slowly regaining his confidence and putting back together the shattered pieces of his mind and heart. He had made great strides in that regard and Belle was proud of him and happy that he was finally acquiring a measure of peace from the nightmares that still occasionally haunted his sleep.

She fingered the sleeve of her vintage lavender dress, with an A-line and small tucks in the bodice, and let the peace of this moment steal over her. As she closed her eyes to savor it, she heard the slight clink as Rumple carried the tray over and set it down on the table, and opened her eyes.

There in front of her was the tray, with the Royal Daulton tea service on it. Steam rose from the side of the tea pot and there were a bowl with small sugar lumps in heart shapes and a pitcher with some creamer in it. On her side was the chipped cup.

Rumple carefully picked up the cup and placed it in front of her. "Here you go, Belle. Tonight I made something called Tropical Sunset. It's a green tea base with coconut and a hint of orange and dark chocolate."

"Sounds heavenly," she replied reaching for the cup. Lately they had been experimenting with different herbal teas, trying to find one they liked best.

She poured creamer from the pitcher into the cup and added two sugar lumps, then picked up the spoon to stir it.

As she did so, a beautiful gold ring with three magnificent stones slid down down it and onto her finger.

"Oh!" she gasped and looked up to find Rumple standing next to her, one hand caressing her face.

"Belle," he began, his voice hushed and tender. "You have been the flicker of light in my ocean of darkness. I have lost you so many times, to darkness, to weakness, to amnesia and treachery, and finally to death itself. When I . . . sacrificed myself to stop Pan, I did so knowing I would never get my happy ending. Indeed, I believed I was a villain and didn't deserve one. But you gave me the courage to do what I had to. But I regretted never having this chance, the chance to tell you what was in my heart. And all the time I was Zelena's captive the single light in my darkness was your visits. You enabled me to endure her whims, her cruelty, because I knew that if I ever managed to free myself, you were there waiting for me . . .to support me and help me pick up the pieces of my broken heart and mind. You always saw the best in me, even when I never could, and I still don't know how you saw past the monster I was to the good man beneath, yet you did. You taught me to look with my heart, and not with my eyes, to trust again, and most of all . . . to let love in. I know I'm a difficult man to love, but . . . will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

At those last words he knelt on one knee, and took her left hand with the ring on it, turned it palm up, and kissed it.

Belle felt tears come to her eyes. "Rumple . . .after all we have been and done . . . there is only one answer I could give-yes, yes, yes! A thousand times—yes!"

Then she leaned over and said, "Sometimes the best book is torn and worn at the edges, and the best teacup is chipped. You are flawed man, but then, so am I. But what's important isn't the flaws, but the heart, and you have always held mine. If it's an honor for me to be your wife, than it's equally an honor for you to be my husband."

Her fingers cupped his face in her hands and she pulled him to her and kissed him with all of the passion within her. During his time of healing, they had abstained from sex, as he had been too traumatized to even contemplate the act. Since his recovery, they had made love once to celebrate his freedom. Tonight, she vowed, they would do so again, and celebrate their engagement.

She drowned in the sensations his lips conjured, like a slow burning flame, desire spread through her, devouring her from within, and turning her from a sedate librarian to a playful houri in an eyeblink. _More, more, more, _she chanted silently, reveling in the way he clasped her to him, like a cherished porcelain cup, gentle and yet demanding all at once.

As she clung to him, reveling in the way his fingers tangled in her hair, her heart singing a triumphant victory aria, the tea in the chipped cup forgotten in the moment, there came a knock on the front door.

At first they ignored it, but the pounding grew insistent, spoiling the tender moment.

"Who the hell is that?" Rumple half-snarled, rising. "This had better be good."

"Maybe it's an emergency," Belle murmured, following him to the door.

Rumple yanked open the door, making the stained glass panels on either side shiver as he did so.

To find Maurice upon the porch, his hand raised to knock again.

"Mr. French," Rumple said softly, his tone sharp. "To what do I owe the pleasure? The rent's not due yet."

"Father!" Belle exclaimed.

"I didn't come here for the rent, Gold. I came here to stop my daughter from making the biggest mistake of her life . . . besides the deal she made with you in the first place," he said tightly.

"And what mistake would that be?" asked Rumple icily.

"Marrying you."

"Father, no! I told you before . . . I love Rumple and he's everything I've ever wanted," Belle objected. "You know what he's done for me . . . for everyone in Storybrooke. You owe him your life! He saved us all . . . twice!"

"I know what I owe him, Belle! But you don't owe him a damn thing." Then he caught sight of her ring, winking upon her finger like a star fallen from the heavens. "Dear gods! Tell me you haven't . . .agreed to his proposal?"

"And if I have?" Belle lifted her chin and glared at her father. "I told you once before, no one decides my fate but me. That's as true now as it's ever been. I know my decision isn't an easy one for you to accept, but Rumple is not a monster, he's no longer cursed, he's a good man, Father, and he loves me. Why can't you see that and give us your blessing?"

Maurice paused, his hands in his pockets, and then Rumple said, "If we're going to have a discussion, best have it inside, and not give the neighbors any more gossip to repeat."

He stepped back to let the florist into the house, seething at the way the most perfect moments between them always seemed to get interrupted.

Maurice followed them into the foyer, and Gold waved a hand and the door shut behind them. "So . . . what sort of deal do I have to make to get my daughter to come to her senses, Gold?"

Rumple eyed him with resignation. "The only deal I want, Maurice, is one in which we agree that Belle is the most important thing in both our lives and we agree to be civil to each other for her sake. I know I'm not the one you would have chosen for her, but—"

"No, you're not," Maurice interrupted. "Belle, I've tried to tell you so many times . . . you can do better than this . . . sorcerer. Gaston would marry you in an instant . . ."

"Gaston is a perfect idiot, Father, who cares more for himself than he ever did for me!" Belle flared. "He only agreed to marry me to get his hands on my kingdom, not because he loved me. I don't want a marriage of convenience, Father! I'm not you . . ."

"Your mother and I grew to care for each other and eventually to love each other," Maurice began. "I only want what's best for you."

Belle sighed. "Then why won't you see that Rumple is what's best for me?"

"He was a beast who stole you away, kept you prisoner," the florist snapped.

"No! You're not remembering right," Belle shook her head.

"You made a deal with me, Maurice, to save your people and your kingdom," Rumple interjected. "I didn't steal anything."

"Father, I _chose_ to go with him," Belle reminded him.

"You were coerced!"

"No . . . it was my choice, and I stand by it. I chose to go and I chose to stay and due to a misunderstanding fostered by Regina, I chose to leave. But now I've come back, come home, and come the Apocalypse, I am never leaving him again . . . not for any reason!"

Maurice winced at the heat from her stormy cerulean gaze. "Belle, he's a monster . . ."

"No, Father. He was cursed, he was a beast, but he's not now. _Look_ at him. Not with your eyes, with your heart. He's not the beast of the fairytales, he's a man, an imperfect one, but sometimes the best cups are chipped. I told you once before, my life is my own, to do as I choose, but I would like for you to be a part of it . . . if you choose."

Maurice looked suddenly weary. "Do you truly love him, Belle?"

"Yes. He didn't . . . ensorcel me if that's what you're getting at."

"Nor would I. I know I'm not perfect . . . but neither are you." Rumple said quietly.

"You almost killed me over a damned cup!" Maurice snapped.

"No, I almost killed you over Belle!" Rumple corrected. "Because I didn't know Regina lied to me about her. I thought she was dead, and you were the cause of it. And then you went and stole my cup . . . the only thing I had left . . .did you really think I would let it go?"

"You wanted me broken, you beast!"

"Yes, because you took the best thing in my life from me . . . not the cup, but your daughter . . . and I wanted you to hurt as much as I did . . .I went too far, but then so did you, when you attempted to send Belle in a mine cart over the town line," Rumple recalled.

"I was only trying to protect her from you," Maurice objected.

"By making her forget her whole life?" Rumple demanded.

"It was the only thing I could think of," Maurice mumbled. "I thought if . . . if she forgot everything, we could start from scratch . . ."

"Father, you were both wrong," Belle said softly. "But here's the one thing you need t understand. Even without my memories . . . I still loved Rumple. A part of me knew . . . even when I didn't know my own name . . . that he was important to me . . . that he mattered to me . . .and though I knew nothing else . . . I knew that . . . and no matter what, I would have found my way back to him. Because true love always does. The heart always knows, Father. You can separate us, you can tear us apart, with magic, with deception, even with death, but no matter what happens . . . we will always return to each other. Death cannot stop true love, all it can do is delay it for awhile. Love is hope, it fuels our dreams. And when you find love, you never give up," she cried passionately. "I never have, and I never will." She reached out a hand and took Rumple's in hers. "He is my life."

"And she is mine," Rumple said evenly. "And that will never change. I know well what I was . . . but I am not a monster any longer. I've changed, grown, transformed . . . thanks to your daughter. Because of her I am more now than I ever was, and she holds my heart in her keeping. Past mistakes left scars on us all. But I think it's time we covered them and moved on. Belle has agreed to marry me."

"And there's nothing I can do about it, right?"

"No. So you might as well accept it," Rumple said crisply.

Maurice looked from one to the other. Then he sighed in resignation. "So be it. If this is what you truly want . . .?"

"It is, Father." Belle assured him, her face alight with joy.

Maurice turned to Rumple. "Make her happy, Gold."

"If it takes the rest of my life," he vowed.

"All right, you have my blessing then," Maurice said reluctantly. "You set a date yet?"

Belle shook her head. "I'll let you know." Then she hugged her father. "Thank you, Papa."

Maurice flushed. "I might be a stubborn old fool, as your mama once said, but I can see the writing on the wall. Congratulations, Belle." He kissed his daughter on the cheek, then coughed and swiped at his eyes. "I'll just be going now. Call me when you pick a date."

Then he turned and left the house.

Rumple locked the door.

"Well, that was . . . unexpected," Belle said with a rueful chuckle.

"At least this time, I'm not accused of murder," Gold said wryly, then he pulled her into his arms. "Now . . . where were we? Oh yes. Right . . . _here_ . . ." he murmured, and captured her mouth in his and kissed her breathless.

**A/N: so, one proposal down . . . and Swanfire to go! How'd you like?**


	16. In My Dreams

**16**

**In My Dreams**

Neal Cassidy had been many things in his somewhat long and short life. He had been a rebel, a runaway, a Lost Boy, a thief, and an occasional hero. He had been in another way the prodigal son, now come back home, and resurrected from death. But he had, even as a thief, still held to a code of honor, and it was his love for one woman who had caused him to turn from a life of crime to helping others. For though almost no one save himself knew it, he had not been a thief in Manhattan. He had been a hotline abuse counselor for runaway teens and children, and had been on his way to getting a masters in that field, with emphasis on young adults and children. He had been going to school at night, and fielding calls and doing an internship during the day, and though the work was sometimes heartbreaking, it was also rewarding, and he found that he loved it. He loved knowing he had helped someone much like himself heal and find peace and understanding, helped another soul find their path back to a life worth living.

Now, he thought as he headed over to the sheriff's station, it was time for him to find his own path to new life, with the only woman he had ever truly loved—Emma Swan. As he walked over to the station, carrying a wrapped package under one arm, he thought about that day when they had reconnected in Manhattan-the day he had found Emma again, found Rumple, found the son he never knew existed. It had been a day of shocked revelations and an opening of old wounds. He had found again the family he had lost . . . and one he never knew he'd had.

And, he admitted now, he'd reacted rather badly to seeing his father again, had allowed anger to cloud his judgment, had acted—he grimaced slightly—rather like some of the teenagers he'd counseled, and been unwilling to listen to Rumple's side of things. _I was blind, but now I see._ He now understood a hell of a lot more about his papa, and also himself. He wanted his family together and happy. He thought about going into a partnership with Archie here and counseling Storybrooke's youth, who doubtless had a lot of baggage due to the curse and so forth. He'd have to see how that worked out. He also wanted to be a decent father to his son . . . the way Rumple had been before he'd been cursed, and was again. And there was one thing he was certain of, he wanted to make Emma his wife.

He whistled as he made his way into the station. "Emma, hey, wild swan, you free for a few minutes?" he called.

She was at her desk, working on some paper work. "Neal!" she exclaimed, and came around the desk to kiss him hello. "So, what's up, Doc?" she joked.

He grinned at the old line from Bugs Bunny. "I wanted to tell you something," he began, and started to unwrap the surprise he'd brought with him.

Just then the phone rang.

"Hang on, I've got to answer this," Emma sighed, and reached for the phone.

"You really ought to hire a secretary, hon," Neal sighed, and rocked back on his heels. _The best laid plans of mice and men . . ._

"Hello, Storybrooke police station, Sheriff Swan speaking . . ." Emma said into the receiver. Her blue eyes went wide. "He's what . . . serenading Astrid down at the convent . . . on a _mandolin_ . . . where the heck did he get that . . . and you're sure he's . . . err . . . drunk . . .? Okay, Mother Superior, I'm coming over to get him." Emma hung up, sighing. "Well, now I have to go pick up Leroy. He's drunk and causing a public disturbance down at the convent, serenading Astrid on a mandolin singing Spanish love songs . . ."

"He's _what_?" Neal goggled.

"You heard me. Only in Storybrooke," Emma groaned. "Wait here, I'll be right back. Damn drunken dwarfs!"

"I'll be right here waiting," Neal assured her, as she pulled on her jacket and gunbelt.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Fifteen minutes later, she had returned, and after putting Leroy in lock up to sober up, went and found Neal sitting at her desk playing Candy Crush on her computer. "Okay, I'm back. Now what was so important you had to come down here instead of wait till I got home?"

Neal rose to his feet, feeling his heart start pounding. _Please, don't let me screw up. I've been practicing this whole speech for hours in front of the damn bathroom mirror. _He cleared his throat. "Emma, I know we don't have the best track record . . ."

The shrill jangle of the phone scattered his thoughts to the four winds.

"Damn it!" she swore. "I'm so sorry." She picked it up while Neal ground his teeth together. "Storybrooke sheriff's office, Sheriff Swan speaking . . . there's _what . . ._ a fifteen foot _python_ in the kitchen of the diner! Hells bells! Umm . . . okay . . . don't do anything to it . . .I'll be over as soon as I can . . ."

"What the hell happened now?" Neal demanded.

"A fifteen foot python was found curled up by the stove in Granny's diner," Emma reported. "You know any snake charmers, Neal?"

The phone rang again. Emma answered it. After she had hung up, she said, "That was Marvin's Pet Emporium. Apparently their pet python, Cuddles, escaped this morning when their new assistant forgot to put the cover securely on his cage . . . and they're going to help me get him back where he belongs before there's a panic."

She went and grabbed a large black sack with a long pole attached to it and said, "Be right back, Cassidy."

He shook his head, running his fingers through his hair, mussing it a little. "Okay, Swan. It's like Rescue 911. The cavalry's coming."

"Yeah and I'm the female version of Custer," she snorted wryly, then dashed out the door.

Neal looked at the door glumly. _Well, at least I can rehearse some more,_ he thought, and sat down again at her desk.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

En route back to the station, Emma got another emergency call. Ashley had locked herself out of her car with baby Alexa inside and needed Emma to help her. She called Neal on her cell and told him she'd be another fifteen minutes, and he sighed and resigned himself to playing a few more rounds of Candy Crush. At the rate they were going, he might never get a chance to ask her.

He listened hard and heard her car pull up. _Better get your ass in gear, Cassidy, before she gets another damn call because somebody's house is on fire or their kid's stuck in a tree or their mother fell down and can't get up._

Grabbing the wrapped package he'd brought with him, he ran out to where Emma was emerging from the Bug. "Okay. I really wanted to do this inside and all, but if I don't do it now, I may never get the chance to," he said, and tore off the wrapping to reveal . . . a beautiful dreamcatcher.

"Oh, Neal!" Emma murmured, taking it from him. "It's gorgeous!"

It was a large dreamcatcher, with white leather forming the hoop and silver thread for the web. Braids dangled from the bottom, tied with beautiful crystal beads of delicate blue, purple, and pink. Large swan feathers decorated the sides, bound with gold wire. More crystals winked at her from the silvery web.

"Where did you get it?"

"Well, I sent away for a kit online . . . and some extra things . . . and I made it," he admitted. "Do you like it?"

Emma nodded. "It's so beautiful. I'm going to hang it on the wall over the bed . . ." then she noticed something else and her voice trailed away.

In the center of the web, where traditionally a hole was left to let the good dreams escape, was a ring.

She felt a lump in her throat. "Oh . . .oh . . .are you . . .?"

In answer, he got down on one knee. "That would be a yes." His heart in his throat, he took her free hand in his. "Emma Swan, I've loved you since the day you broke into my stolen car . . . and tried to steal it." He indicated the Bug. "And really, you stole more than the car that day . . . you also stole my heart. I never expected to find anyone who . . . understood my need for a home, for a family, for love . . . until I met you. I'd been searching all my life for those things after I went through that portal, and every time I thought I found them . . . they were ripped away from me. I'd vowed to never need anyone, I put up walls around my heart. But then you came, and you found your way through the cracks, you brought my walls down, and showed me that I could risk my heart, and take a chance on love."

"You did that for me too," Emma whispered. "And then I lost you twice. . ."

"Well, you're not losing me again. You know how your parents say they always find each other?" Neal asked hoarsely, blinking hard. "Well, we can never lose each other. No matter what, I'll always return to you."

"And I'll always be right here," she touched her heart and then his. "Waiting."

"You can stop waiting then. Remember when we said we'd go to Tallahassee together? Well, I've figured out something. We've got Tallahassee right here, right now. In my dreams in the other world, I dreamed of you . . . and now that I'm awake I can make those dreams come true. And the only place I'm gonna go is home with you. If you'll have me?"

She stepped forward and drew him to his feet, then she kissed him like there was no tomorrow. "Does that answer your question?"

"Uh . . . yeah," he laughed, his brown eyes crinkling. "I love you, Emma."

Behind them people on the street stopped and started whistling and clapping. "It's about time, Neal!"

"Make an honest woman of her, Cassidy!"

"Kiss him again, Emma!" Ruby hooted.

"That's good advice," the sheriff said. "I love you, Baelfire."

He blinked. "You . . . called me Baelfire."

"Yeah, because it's who you are. And Gold always said . . . to name a thing properly is to know it, and I know you best of all, Bae . . . like you know me . . ." Then she kissed him again.

When they broke off the kiss, he slid the ring on her finger. "So . . . that's what I wanted to tell you."

She laughed. "And that's the best news I've had all day!" Then she spun around in a circle holding the dreamcatcher, thinking this proposal had been the stuff dreams were made of . . .once he'd finally had a chance to do so.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Later that night, two very happy couples made blissful love to their fiancées, taking their time and rediscovering the joy and sweetness they had been denied for so long, sharing with each other the most intimate parts of themselves, in a dance as old as time, together they travelled to a place they had only visited in dreams, finding peace in the other's embrace, healing in the other's touch, and at last becoming whole again, for all of time.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Belle and Emma went shopping for dresses with Snow, though Emma had told Snow adamantly that she wasn't getting anything too "princess like". "It's just not me, Mom." Emma said calmly. "I want something nice but not . . . not too frilly."

"Okay . . ." Snow looked thoughtful as they stopped in Rapunzel's bridal store True Love Visions. "Well . . . we can go for a more . . . modern look. How about you, Belle?"

"Umm . . . Rumple's kind of old fashioned," mused Belle. "I think he'd like to see me in . . . a dress that's kind of a combination of old and new. So we'll see what fits."

Emma arched an eyebrow. "Seems like Rumple would like you in anything you had on, Belle."

Belle blushed. "I could say the same about you and Bae, Emma."

"Oh? Bae says he doesn't care what I'm wearing . . . though he prefers me without anything on," Emma said naughtily.

"Emma!" Snow mock-scolded.

"What? You were the one who wanted to come on this little jaunt, Mom," her daughter smirked.

"To make sure you weren't getting cold feet," her mother interjected.

"I'm not. Look, my walls came down the instant I saw Bae in the hospital after Gavin was born," Emma told them. "And better late than never."

"Sometimes the Stiltskin men can be difficult to love," Snow quipped.

"But when they love you, they love you with everything they have . . . forever," Belle stated, her blue eyes dreamy. "It hasn't always been easy for me and Rumple, each of us have our faults and we've sometimes let our insecurities and things get in the way of our relationship, but no matter how much we might argue, we always end up coming back to each other in the end. Because no matter what, I love him and he loves me, and neither of us could imagine our lives without the other one in it."

"And that's what True Love is all about," Snow declared softly. "Finding your one true match . . . and then sticking by him through thick and thin. It's what Charming and I have done."

Emma nodded. "It's like that with me and Bae too. We both have things in our pasts that we had to forgive ourselves and each other for . . . but now that we have we can move on . . . together . . . with Henry."

"So let's go shopping, Emma!" Belle giggled like a schoolgirl going shopping for her first prom dress.

"Right, girlfriend," Emma grinned. Then she paused and said, "You know, I just realized something. Once Baelfire and I say "I do", I'll have a brand new set of parents . . . you and Rumple. How funny. I've gone from having nobody to having a whole family all at once."

"But it's fun, isn't it?" asked her mother.

Emma nodded. "Yes, it is . . . It really is." Then she pushed open the doors of the boutique and went in, eager to pick out a dress that would knock Bae's socks off.

**Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break**

In another part of Storybrooke, Bae, Rumple, and Henry were at the tailor's getting fitted for their suits for the wedding. They were currently looking at the selection of formal wear hanging on the walls. There were suits by Ralph Loren, Armani, Dolce and Gabbana, Versace, and others.

Bae examined all the choices and said, "Hmm . . . I don't know . . .I just can't see myself wearing one of these."

"Why not, Dad?" asked his son. "I think you'd look really good."

Rumple eyed his son. "Why don't you let me pick one out for you, Bae?" he suggested, partly to be helpful and partly because he wasn't entirely sure he trusted his son's fashion sense. Bae's taste in clothes seemed to run to hoodies, jeans, casual shirts, and scarves.

Bae looked at his father askance. "Papa, you want to pick out my clothes? Whaddaya think I am, five?"

"Dad, he's just trying to help," Henry put in, seeing the rather hurt look creep onto Rumple's face.

"Yes, what's wrong with a little advice?" Rumple asked, sounding hurt. "I mean, do you really want to show up to your wedding in _that_?" he waved a hand at Bae's jeans and gray hoodie.

Bae sighed. "What do you want me to do, Papa? Raid your closet?"

"It would be a start," Rumple snorted.

Bae's jaw hung open. "Oh my God! I cannot believe you just said that!"

"Dearie, don't take this the wrong way, but you've got the fashion sense of a hottentot," Rumple remarked, unable to help himself.

"I _what?"_

"You get that from your mother, I'm afraid," said his father.

"I do not!" Baelfire snapped, outraged. "I didn't get a damn thing from her except my hair!"

"And her taste in clothes," teased Rumple, his brown eyes sparkling.

Bae started to reply when Henry said, "Hey, Dad, I'm recording this on my phone." He got a real kick out of seeing his dad and grandpa bantering like this.

"Papa, you're—oh hell no!" Bae cried. "Give me that!" he went to grab Henry's iPhone from him.

His son danced backwards. "Aww, Dad, it's hilarious . . .I can post it on my timeline . . ."

"Why? So everyone can make fun of us?" he demanded.

"It's what kids do," Henry snickered, holding the phone out of reach.

Until Rumple waved a hand and the phone vanished from his grandson's hand and reappeared in his own. "I'll take that."

"Aww, Grandpa!" Henry moaned. "You ruin all my fun."

"Now you sound like your father," smirked the sorcerer. "Whenever I told him he couldn't do something, he sulked and said I ruined all his fun."

"I never said that!" Bae objected.

"Really, dearie? You forget . . . I'm not senile yet . . . and I was the one who had to deal with all your stormy glowers and pouting and saying how much it sucked being at home instead of traveling across the country with Morraine in the back of a wagon," Rumple reminded.

Bae covered his face with his hand. "Why can't you be like other people's fathers . . . and have senior moments?"

Rumple glared at him.

Henry started cracking up. "Dad . . . you want Grandpa to go crazy?"

"No . . . I just want him to forget parts of my childhood."

"Who's Morraine?" asked Henry curiously.

"Just a friend," said his father.

"She was the girl next door . . . and he had a crush on her," Rumple added.

"Papa! For heaven's sake!"

"What? It's true. She was and you did. I practically had to sit on you when Hodor's bully boys came and took her off to the army," said the former spinner.

"You had a crush on a girl? What'd she look like?"

"She was . . err . . . just a girl . . . you know . . ."

"She had red hair, green eyes, and freckles," Rumple filled in. "And she was a sassy little thing, and not afraid of anything. If we hadn't had to run away to keep Bae out of the army, I think he might have ended up walking out with her."

"Like dating?"

"Yes, just like that," Rumple nodded.

"But that didn't happen, so let's just forget it," Bae said quickly. He went and pulled down an Armani shirt in a pale cream color from the wall. "Here. How about this one? Henry, you can pick out a tie."

As Henry went over to the tie table, Rumple held up the shirt to Bae and said, "Not bad . . . but we need something a little bolder to offset this."

Bae coughed. "Just remember, Papa, I'm not going onstage with Aerosmith."

"Don't be a smartass, Baelfire," Rumple reproved.

"I get that from you," his son countered.

"Humph! You're a pain in my ass sometimes," Rumple snorted, and then went over to the row of suits and started examining them.

"Look who's talking," Bae rolled his eyes.

"Dad, I think I found a tie!" Henry came back holding a silk Versace colored a tasteful muted silvery blue.

"Can I assist you with something?" asked a sales clerk.

"Can you give my son some fashion tips?" queried Rumple with a devilish sly grin.

"Papa, you're unbelievable!" Bae cried. He turned to the clerk. "Don't listen to a word he says. I think Alzheimer's is starting to creep up on him."

"_Excuse_ me?" growled Rumple.

"Uh . . . are they always like this?" the clerk gaped.

"Pretty much," Henry chuckled. "See, my family's crazy."

"Crazy? Bae, you need to teach this boy some manners," Rumple scolded.

"Like you did me, Papa?" Bae queried.

Rumple glared at him. "Just what is _that_ supposed to mean, Baelfire?"

"Uh . . . you tried . . . it just didn't take all that well," Bae said quickly.

Rumple shook his head. "Where did I go wrong?"

"You should have grounded him more often," Henry offered his own opinion.

"Hey! You watch it, mister, before I ground _you_!" Bae lectured.

"But Dad, if you ground me, I can't be in the wedding . . . and who's gonna be your best man?" his son pointed out.

"Ahhh . . . the little smartass is right!" Bae groaned.

Rumple smirked. "Like father, like son."

"Next time I'm having a girl!" Bae scowled.

"Then you'll really go crazy," the clerk chimed in. "I ought to know, I've got two of them at home."

"Children—they're life's greatest blessing and worst trial all at the same time," Rumple stated.

"You can say that again, Mr. Gold!" the clerk chuckled. "Would you like some assistance?"

"Nah, we're good, thanks," Bae waved him away and turned and pulled a Ralph Lauren suit off the hanger. "How about this one, Henry?"

Henry eyed it. "Uh . . . no . . . it doesn't do anything for you, Dad. Except make you look old."

"Old? I'm only twenty-nine!" Bae sputtered.

"Actually, you're much older," Rumple countered. "But your time on Neverland and elsewhere made your aging slow down."

"Whatever, Papa."

"Too bad it didn't do anything for your smart mouth," muttered his father.

Bae rolled his eyes. "Okay, Papa . . . let's see what suit you pick out."

Rumple marched over to where a deep blue Armani was hanging and pointed to it. "This one." He took a lighter blue silk shirt and paired it, and then summoned a silvery blue matching tie and a Versace indigo patterned scarf and said, "There! See, nothing to it."

Bae threw up his hands. "Fine! I give up! You can pick my suit out."

Rumple chuckled. "Good thing. Otherwise we'll be here all day," then he winked at Henry and walked over and took down a classy black Dolce and Gabbana while Bae glared at him in turn.

A smirking Henry waited until Rumple's back was turned and stole his iPhone out of his grandfather's pocket.

He was just congratulating himself on his sneakiness when a hand closed over his wrist. "Not so fast, kid."

Henry looked up at Bae. "Aww, Dad! How'd you know?"

"You really need to ask that?" his father queried.

Henry sighed. "Just kidding. I'm too young to forget things yet like you."

"Brat!" Bae mock-cuffed him alongside the head. "Just wait till your _old_ man forgets your allowance."

"I take it back. You're an encyclopedia."

Rumple turned back around. "You talking about Belle?"

"Nah. Belle's Wikipedia. I meant Dad."

"I see. Dare I ask what I am?" Rumple queried.

"You're like Google," Henry said impudently. "You see all, done all, and know all."

"Now _there's_ a smart boy," Rumple praised. "Takes after his grandpa."

"Which one?" Bae asked.

Rumple swatted him on the back of the head.

"Hey!" Bae rubbed the back of his head. "You treat me like I'm seven!"

"Then don't act like it," Runple returned.

Henry giggled to himself. Then he snapped another picture while they were glowering at each other. His Facebook page would be getting some new pictures tomorrow.

**A/N: Okay, hoped you all like the Swanfire proposal. I felt this was how it should have happened on the show? Yes? And the family bonding with Henry, his dad, and grandpa too!**


	17. A Wedding to Remember

**17**

**A Wedding to Remember**

The two weeks leading up to the wedding, which had been decided on by both parties to be a double one, so both couples could share in each other's happiness, and so Gold could help pay for Bae and Emma's reception without seeming too overbearing, were frantic between going for last minute fittings and tailoring, ordering two cakes, getting flower arrangements from Moe, and arranging the seating in the town hall so no one felt slighted or had apoplexy. Luckily Granny had agreed to cater the food and they had gotten a guy named Michael Flynn, who had been a minstrel back in Fairy Tale Land, to provide some of the entertainment and sing a few of Belle, Rumple, Bae, and Emma's favorite songs for the reception.

It was not a huge affair, for neither party really wished that, only a few intimate friends and family would attend the actual ceremony, with Henry being Bae's witness and Bae being Rumple's, and Roland carrying the rings to them. David and Moe would give the brides away, and Ambrose Bickerman, a justice of the peace, would officiate the ceremony, which would feature the two couples saying their own vows to each other. Snow would be Emma's witness and Ariel would be Belle's, since Ruby would be busy helping Granny with the reception and catering.

The reception itself was also rather intimate, with only those guests close to the couples attending the actual reception, though any of the citizens could show up and wish the couples good health and so forth and attend the cocktail hour beforehand, with the open bar and appetizers.

The day of the wedding dawned and Belle was in the parlor, arranging several bouquets of flowers that had been sent to them by friends when the doorbell rang and a freckle faced teen wearing a Game of Thorns T-shirt stood on the porch of Gold's salmon Victorian. "Hello," greeted Belle. "Are you my father's new delivery boy?"

"Uh, yeah. Matt came down with some kinda bug so I'm filling in for him. I've come to deliver your bouquet, Miss French, and Mr. Gold's corsage," said the boy, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"Thank you . . . err . . . what's your name?"

"Uh, people just call me Forrest, ma'am." The kid turned and went to get the flowers out of the van.

"Belle, dearie, would you help me fix my tie?" Rumple called from the top of the stairs.

"Uh, sure!" she said, then she called back to Forrest, "Just put the flowers on the table in the parlor, and your tip's on the table." She made her way up the stairs.

Forrest returned with the flowers and took the generous seventy-five dollar tip, and left.

Belle gently arranged Rumple's deep blue pinstriped tie and pinned on his diamond and sapphire cufflinks to his Armani jacket. "You look smashing, Mr. Gold."

He grinned at her and stole a kiss, saying, and "I'm sure you will too, dearie."

Belle had not put on her dress yet, wanting to make sure certain things were set for the wedding night following the reception. "The flowers are here, Rumple."

"I'll go and put on mine, and let you get dressed," he said, and hurried downstairs.

Belle practically flew up the stairs and removed her beautiful silk and satin ivory colored dress from its wrapping. It had been delivered yesterday evening, and Belle had only glanced at it once before putting it away. Now she would wear it.

Her dress was an elegant Versace creation, it was form fitted to her and had spaghetti straps on the sleeves and the bodice was accented with a satin ribbon with sparkling Swarovski crystals that stretched diagonally from her left breast and across her midriff and curled about her waist. The top skirt was a sheer watered silk that flowed over the ivory satin underskirt and cam down to her ankles, showing off her fabulous silk stardust heels, that shimmered like stars when she walked. They were accented with silk rose patterned hose of delicate ivory. Around her neck was the priceless diamond necklace from Gold's shop, and she allowed her long hair to fall free down her back, save for one side, which was caught up by a sapphire comb.

She had just finished applying a small amount of makeup, just enough to accent her beautiful features, and had dabbed on some sexy cologne Ruby had given her, when her cell rang.

It was Emma.

"Emma, how are you?" Belle said into her cell.

"Belle, we . . . err . . . I have a serious problem here," Emma said, sounding panicked. "It's my dress . . .I . . I must have gained weight or something because . . . I can't zip it all the way . . . I don't know how this could have happened . . ."

"Emma, have you checked the size?" Belle asked.

There was a pause. Then she returned to the line. "Oh good God! Belle . . . they sent over the wrong size! Now what? The darn store is closed . . . today's Saturday! What do I do?"

"Emma, relax! Rumple can fix this . . . he's a spinner and he can sew . . ." Belle said, thinking fast.

"Sew? You mean . . . let him re-fit the dress?" Emma gasped. "But Belle . . . the ceremony's in an hour! Can he use magic?"

"I'll ask him," Belle said quickly. "Rumple! We have a . . . bit of a problem here!"

"What's wrong? You need me to zip up your dress, sweetheart?" he called, coming up the stairs.

"No, I need you to help Emma," she told him what had happened.

"Here, let me talk to her," he said, and got on the phone. "Emma, don't panic. I can do a quick repair job with a needle and thread and a bit of magic."

"You sure, Gold?" Emma asked.

"Quite sure, dearie. I'm coming over now," Rumple said, and vanished, appearing in Emma and Bae's apartment.

He found his future daughter-in-law with her dress half-zipped and ready to swear a blue streak.

"I cannot _believe_ this!" she fumed. "This could only happen to me, Rumple! It's like Murphy's law!"

"Calm down," he soothed. "Where's Bae?"

"At the barber's, getting a wedding shave and his and Henry's hair done."

"Ah, I see. Okay, dearie. Let's see . . ." he gestured for her to turn around so he could examine the back of her dress, which was tastefully elegant, a Chanel in a deep gold that fluttered down to her calves with a pin tucked Grecian-type bodice with the swan pendant reset in a chased gold disk with four opals surrounding it pinned to the top between her breasts. The skirt was pleated gently and accented by a gold linked belt. The sleeves were a sheer silk that was barely there.

Her hair was undone and her feet were still bare, her shoes chucked in a corner in a burst of temper upon discovering the dress refused to zip.

She flushed ten different shades of red at the realization that her father-in-law was seeing her in this state, but there was no help for it. Her cheeks flaming hotter than Vesuvius before Pompei erupted, Emma turned to face the mirror.

Rumple gently lifted her hair to one side, murmuring, "Hmm . . .this needs to be let out a bit here and here," he placed his hands lightly on her waist and measured with a tape, then again, across her shoulders.

"Can you fix it, Gold?"

"Yes, dearie. But I need to have exact measurements, it's not like conjuring a whole new gown." He lowered the tape and concentrated, and the dress fabric increased in certain strategic places and Rumple used a needle and gold thread to sew a different zipper to the back of the dress.

"Can't you just magic it on?" Emma wanted to know.

"I'm trying to conserve my magic," he answered, for since losing the power of the dagger, he found that his magic, though still as powerful as before, also had finite limits. "Breathe, dearie. I'm a weaver, and I used to design and make clothes, remember? Sewing a zipper is child's play." The needle flashed in and out as he sewed rapidly.

Emma tried to remain calm and not freak out. It was going to be okay. The dress was being fixed. But she couldn't help but wonder—what else was going to go wrong?

"There you go," Rumple said, tying off the final stitch. "Good as new!"

He carefully zippered the gown.

Emma turned around and said, "Rumple, you're a lifesaver!" Then she hugged him.

"Well, I couldn't let my daughter appear at her own wedding looking like something the cat dragged in," he teased gently. "Where's your mother?"

"She's feeding Gavin, then she's coming over to help me with my hair and makeup," Emma said.

"Glad to be of service," Gold said gallantly, then he vanished, reappearing in his own foyer to find Belle looking like the world had ended.

"Rumple!" she exclaimed in distress. "Look at these!" She thrust the bouquet of flowers under his nose. "They're the wrong ones! I ordered champagne roses and midnight blue orchids with gold sprays of baby's breath and they sent . . ._this_!"

There were roses in it—of burnt orange—and purple crocuses and huge white lilies that belonged at a funeral service and some hideous fuscia flower she couldn't even put a label to. "These look like . . . something someone ordered to put on a headstone!"

Gold just stared at the bouquet without saying anything for a moment. It was dreadful, the ugliest looking thing he'd ever laid eyes on. "What's going on here? First Emma's dress and now your flowers. Did you call your father?"

"Yes, and he apologized like crazy. It must have been that new delivery boy, he's a nice kid but a bit of a . . . ditz," Belle groaned. "He's bringing over the right bouquet as soon as he can, it got left at the shop."

"That's good," Gold murmured and eyed his bride appreciatively. "Forget the flowers, dearie. You don't need them, when it comes right down to it. You look gorgeous just as you are."

She blinked, then smiled up at him. "And you . . . you doth teach the torches to burn bright, Mr. Gold."

He allowed himself an impish grin. "Quoting _Romeo and Juliet_, Belle?"

She laughed shyly. "It seemed appropriate . . . that line. Though of course our story will have a much different ending."

"True. I don't plan on poisoning myself on our wedding night," he quipped.

"And I'll refrain from stabbing myself with the cutlery," she returned spiritedly, her cerulean eyes glowing with restored good humor.

He put a hand to his heart and whispered, "Arise fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief, that thou, her maid, art far more fair than she, the brightness of your cheek would shame those stars, as daylight doth a lamp, your eye in heaven would through airy regions stream so bright, that birds would sing and think it not night."

Belle's lips twitched in a brilliant smile, as she realized that her soon-to-be husband was as well read and versed in the timeless classics as she was. "You are indeed my match and my heart."

Just then the doorbell rang and Gold went to answer it.

It was Forrest, nearly stuttering in his anxiety, holding the correct bouquet of flowers in his hand. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Gold! I . . . I grabbed the wrong one by mistake!" He was practically shaking in his sneakers. "Please . . . please don't turn me into somethin' unnatural! My mama would just about die!"

Rumple held up a hand. "Calm down, boy! It was an honest mistake, and I'm no longer the Dark One." He took the bouquet from Forrest. "Thanks for bringing this and have a good day."

"Yes sir! My mama was right," the teen gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing like a yoyo. "She said—life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get."

For some reason this caused Rumple to start laughing.

Forrest was confused. "Somethin' funny, Mr. Gold?"

"No . . .go on, I'm sure you have other deliveries to make," Rumple waved him off, still chortling.

Then he brought the correct bouquet inside to Belle. They could always shove the other one in a vase and give it out as a door prize.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Baelfire and Rumple waited for their brides in front of the wishing well just outside Storybrooke. The procession started with Ariel and Henry walking together, Snow followed them with Gavin, and then came Roland carrying the pillow with their rings. Behind him was Ava Zimmer, throwing rose petals, while Moe escorted Belle and David did the same on his other side with Emma.

Both brides looked radiant, their love for ther grooms showing in their eyes for all to see.

Regina, Robin, and the dwarfs were present, as was Archie, watching the happy couples as they processed up to their grooms at the well.

Suddenly, Emma stumbled, catching her heel in the grass and almost falling over.

"Emma!" David gasped, holding her upright.

"Damn heels!" she swore. "I knew I shouldn't have listened to my mother!"

Then she turned to hug her father as they came up to Bae. On their other side, Belle did the same for Moe.

Roland halted beside Henry and Ariel went and stood to Belle's left. Snow went to stand alongside Bae, since Emma was on his right.

Ambrose, a reedy man in his mid-forties, cleared his throat and said in a hoarse voice, "It is my pleasure to welcome you all to this joyful occasion, where I join these two couples in sacred matrimony!" He turned to Belle and Rumple. "Mr. Gold, will you speak first?"

"I will," Rumple affirmed. He turned to face Belle, his eyes alight with love. "Belle . . . you told me long ago that love is hope, and your love gave me hope in the darkest of places, hope that you could love one who deemed himself unlovable. I thought, given my past, that no one could ever love me, but you were my candle in the window, my elusive flame in the darkness, and your light helped me find my way home again. For home is where the heart is, and my heart has always been with you. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?"

He took her hand in his.

Then Belle spoke, her voice soft yet echoing through the trees. "I will." Then she said, "Rumplestiltskin, love is the greatest mystery, and it waits like a precious book to be uncovered. I found it the day I met you, and in so doing found my heart and my soul within you beneath the layers of darkness that trapped you. I always saw your true heart and I will always stand beside you, come what may, and I love you for all that you are, for love makes heroes of imperfect people. Will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?"

"I will," he replied in a ringing affirmative.

Moe blinked back tears. Ambrose turned to Bae and Emma. "Now for Baelfire and Emma. Sheriff Swan, you may begin."

Emma turned to face Bae, and cleared her throat. "Bae—for so long I've searched for a home to call my own, and someone who loved me to share it with. I was my own worst enemy, building walls and running away, but you scaled my walls and gave me somewhere to run to—into your arms, safe and sound. My home is wherever you are and my heart belongs only to you, for only you can save me and with you all my dreams come true. Will you marry me?"

"I will!" Bae agreed, and took her hand in his. "Emma—you stole my heart the day we met and you hold it still. I will always fight for you because love is the one thing besides family worth fighting for, worth dying for, and most of all, worth living for. You are my heart, my life, and the best home I will ever know. Will you marry me?"

"I will!" she declared.

"Now for the rings, to pledge your troth," said Ambrose.

Belle beckoned Roland forward, and the little boy, dressed similarly to Henry, trotted up holding out the white satin pillow with gold edging with the four rings tied to it. He looked absolutely adorable. "Here they are, Mr. Rumple!"

"Aww!" went the onlookers.

The two grooms smiled down at the tiny tot, and Rumple murmured, "Good job, dearie!"

Bae bent to take his pair of rings off the pillow.

Only to find they were . . . tied on with triple knots and wouldn't come off!

"What in—I can't—" he sputtered. "Papa, they won't come off!"

"Henry did it!" Roland informed them. "So's they didn't get lost!"

"Oh, great!" Emma groaned.

Rumple coughed, his mouth twitching. Trust his well-meaning grandson to create trouble! "Ahem!" he twitched a finger and the knots undid themselves and they both took their rings from the pillow."Thank you, Roland!" he whispered. "Now go back and stand by Henry."

"'Kay, Mr. Rumple!" shrilled the boy. Then he blurted, "Go on and kiss the girl!"

The witnesses cracked up.

"Out of the mouths of babes!" Regina giggled.

Belle almost burst out laughing too, but managed to retained her composure. Her blue eyes glowed however. She took the ring Rumple handed her, and he held out his hand, as Ambrose said, "Repeat after me. With this ring, I, Belle French, wed thee, Rumplestiltskin Gold."

Belle repeated the line.

"For all the days of my life, with love and fidelity, I make thee my own."

She echoed him, and then slid the thick gold band upon Rumple's finger.

Rumple followed suit, though in place of Belle's name, he spoke his own and hers, sliding a beautiful gold twined eternity knot upon her finger.

Bae and Emma went next, speaking the same vows.

Emma breathed a silent sigh of relief. The ceremony was almost over and they had made it through without some major disaster occurring. It was a world record.

The justice began his final words, saying, "If there be no objections to either of these unions, I—"

At that moment, baby Gavin chose to start fussing.

"Shhh!" Snow tried frantically to hush her son, jiggling him in her arms.

Gavin let out a thin wail, turned his head . . . and projectile vomit spewed out . . . and hit Bae right in the back.

Roland wrinkled up his nose. "Gross! He barfed!"

Bae grimaced, feeling the soaking wet stain seeping through his jacket. "Err . .. looks like my brother-in-law might . . ." he chuckled, trying not to groan.

Snow was mortified. "Oh . . . oh dear . . . I'm so sorry, Baelfire! He just started doing that . . . yesterday he got David in the eye . . ." She frantically tried to wipe the baby with a burpee while David started laughing hysterically. "It's not funny, Nolan!" she hissed and stepped on his foot. "Now go change your son!" she handed him the fussy baby. "Sorry . . ." She went to try and wipe off the stain, but only succeeded in smearing it.

Rumple rolled his eyes. "Is it too much to ask for a normal wedding ceremony?!"

"Well, at least he didn't pee on me," Bae said ruefully.

At the same time, Belle said, "Really, honey, what do you expect? I mean this is _our_ family!"

"I should be grateful there were no interruptions, the town didn't blow up, nobody got kidnapped, and nobody died," Rumple grumbled.

"And nobody lost their mind," Emma quipped, smirking.

Rumple waved a hand and Bae's jacket was clean. He looked at Ambrose. "Finish up, dearie! Before something else happens!"

"I now pronounce you man and wife! You may kiss the bride!"

"Finally!" Roland cried, as Bae took Emma in his arms and kissed her breathless.

On his other side, his father went to lift Belle's veil away so he could kiss her . . . and his cufflink got caught in the gauzy material and he ended up yanking it off. "Hells!" he growled, turning red. Then he kissed his bride at last, making sure at least that went right, and that kiss was the stuff dreams were made of.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

The reception started out well, everyone came for the cocktail hour and ate the delicious appetizers Granny and Ruby had created. They had decorated the town hall with pretty silver and white ribbons and bouquets of fresh roses along the walls and there were tables with lovely Irish lace tablecloths and fine bone china and more centerpieces with roses and midnight blue orchids. The hideous bouquet was in a vase and Henry had taped a number to one of the coffee cups at someone's place setting, and whoever had the number got to take it home. Most of the citizens came to wish the newlyweds well and stayed for the free food and drinks for the hour.

Soon after many of the people had drifted on back home, and the reception was about to start, was when trouble reared its head again. Rumple, Belle, Emma, and Bae were all together on the dance floor, waiting for Flynn to come out an begin singing the songs they had chosen to dance to—"Send Her My Love" by Journey and "In Her Eyes" by Josh Groban.

Minutes ticked by and Flynn remained absent.

Belle looked at Rumple uneasily. "Where is he? Don't tell me he got stage fright or something?"

"If he's not out here in five minutes, I'll go check," promised Rumple.

In the hall's back room, there was pandemonium as Flynn told Dr. Whale, "I can't sing, doc. I've got laryngitis!"

"Oh no! What are we going to do?" groaned Victor to Granny, who was back in the kitchen supervising the food.

"I don't know!" she threw up her hands. "I can't sing!"

"Granny, I can sing!" a tipsy Ruby cried. "I'll help!"

"Ruby, you-you can't go out there like that!" protested Whale. "How many have you had?"

"I dunno! M'fine, Victor, honey!" she drawled, giving him a goofy grin. "And I can sing . . . I'll help out Belle . . . s'what friends are for!"

Before anyone could stop her, she darted out the door into the hall and onto the little platform where Flynn had the microphone and the sound system.

Victor followed, and pasted a hasty smile on his face. "Sorry folks, for the delay! There's been a slight . . . change of plans because our minstrel's under the weather. He's got a little throat ailment," the doctor chuckled nervously. "So Ruby here has offered to fill in!" He began clapping loudly.

Bae whispered to Emma, "Don't tell me his problem is he got drunk?"

"No, but she's three sheets to the wind!" Emma hissed.

Whale began to play the prerecorded music, but instead of Ruby singing Journey, she began belting out the lyrics to "Sweet Dreams" by Patsy Cline!

"Swe-e-et dre-e-ams of yo-o-o-u . . ."

Leroy winced. "Man, my dog sounds better!"

Snow covered Gavin's ears. "A banshee sounds better!"

" . . .start loving someone ne-e-e-w . . ."

Belle cringed. "Rumple . . .she's . . . she's . . ._awful! _This isn't even our song!"

Rumple scowled. "Somebody ought to put her out of her misery. I sing better than this in the shower, gods help me!"

"She's ruining our wedding!" Emma moaned as Ruby segued into "When He Cheats" by Shania Twain.

"I took a Louieville Slugger to bo-o-lth headlights . . .smashed a hole in all four tires . . ."

Bae shook his head. "Hon, this was _not_ the way I envisioned our wedding song going."

" . . .maybe next time he'll thi-i-nk before he cheats . . .!"

Regina was holding her ears. "She makes those kareoke singers down at the Rabbit Hole Monday nights look like Elvis reborn!"

Finally, Victor managed to drag the inebriated would-be singer away and played the songs from the tracks on the DJ system and the two couples heaved a sigh of relief and began to dance.

The rest of the night went off without a hiccup, the dinner was superb, everyone loved the lobster and fillet mignon with mushroom gravy or the chicken Diane or lasagna with a side of fried eggplant and meatballs.

They all danced, drank, and made merry.

Emma and Belle finally were able to smile brightly and enjoy themselves and tease their new husbands.

Bae and Rumple toasted each other with Dom Perignon and Rumple quipped that his son had gotten his good taste in champagne from him.

Then it was time to cut the cakes. Granny had made two cakes for the occasion with fresh whipped cream frosting, three tiers. One was a devil's food with strawberry filling, that was Rumple and Belle's choice, and had a chipped cup on top of it. The other was a golden vanilla with cannoli cream filling and had sugar swan on top of it with fake flames coming out of it.

Roland clapped his hands when the cakes were wheeled out. "Goody! I wanna eat lots of it!"

Robin chuckled indulgently. "You can have some, buddy." He patted his pocket, where a bottle of Rumple's special stomach soothing cherry cordial rested. Rumple had given it to him before the reception, and also any other parents with children attending. So no one would go home with tummyaches that night.

Rumple and Belle approached the cake and were going to cut their first piece when Belle stopped dead and grabbed Rumple's sleeve. "Rumple! What is _that_?" She pointed to the top of their cake, where a chipped cup should have rested.

Instead there was . . . a pair of . . .boobs.

"What the _hell_?" Gold swore. "That's not what I ordered!"

Henry was behind them with his plate and he stared up at the . . .obscenity on the cake and blurted, "Gee, Grandpa, it looks like—"

"Henry!" Regina yelped and covered his eyes.

Henry squirmed. "Mom! I'm twelve!" he protested.

Regina frowned at Rumple. "Really, Rumple, you've pulled some good ones in your day, but this—takes the cake! There are children here!"

Rumple glared at her. "Don't blame this on _me_! I ordered a chipped cup, not the Grand Tetons!"

Now all the guests were whispering, pointing, and laughing behind their hands.

Even Bae and Emma were struggling to keep a straight face.

Suddenly they heard hysterical laughter from the back of the room and saw Hook doubled over laughing his ass off.

Rumple glared at him fit to kill. So did Belle. "Why that—that miserable freebooter!" He rolled up his sleeves.

"Rumple, don't kill him!" hissed his wife.

"Killing's too good for him," snarled the sorcerer.

"Umm, it could have been worse," Emma pointed out. "It could have had . . . err . . . another thing on it."

"Yes, dearie," muttered her father-in-law. Then he gestured and a big pair of fake breasts appeared on the snickering pirate and the ones on the cake vanished to be replaced by the chipped cup and saucer. "You like 'em so much, _you_ can wear them!"

Hook was horrified. "Get 'em off me!"

Rumple crossed his arms over his chest. "Why? You can be your own date!"

Hook looked at Bae and Belle. "Don't just stand there—help me out!"

"I have nothing to say to you." Belle said, her eyes glittering angrily.

"Bae . . . mate . . ." the pirate was pleading now, his hands grasping his . . . appendages.

Emma was cracking up and so were half the guests.

"Aww, come on, Papa. Even you have to admit it was funny," his son tried to intercede.

"It was also indecent!" Belle snapped at her son.

"Yes, there are kids here," Regina returned, still covering Henry's eyes.

"Okay, I'm sorry!" Hook apologized, desperate. He was never going to live this down.

"All right. Next time don't prank a sorcerer," Rumple snorted, then waved a hand and the breasts were removed. "Now get!"

Hook made a beeline for the door, stopping in the restroom on the way out to make sure he was no longer encumbered. He looked in the mirror and began screaming, "Holy _shit_! I'm a woman! _Nooo!"_

Belle looked at Rumple. "What's he talking about?"

Rumple smirked evilly. "Glamour spell, dearie. He'll look like a woman for the rest of the night. Like I said—don't prank a sorcerer unless you want to suffer the consequences."

Belle started laughing. "Oh, Rumple! You're a wicked wicked man!"

"Hey, you married me!" he smirked and then he said, "Let's cut the cake."

As they did so and pieces were handed out, Bae and Emma went to cut theirs also.

Emma smiled at Bae. "Our cake looks delicious, don't you think? Oh my God! Bae, it's on fire!"

For the sugar swan on top of the cake was actually on fire.

"Whoa! Dad, it's like baked Alaska!" Henry cried.

"Hey! Who torched our cake?" gasped Bae.

Granny appeared with dishtowel to try and douse the flames. "I'm sorry, Ruby was trying to light the candle in the back and she . . . err . . . lit the swan by mistake!"

Rumple went to gesture to put out the flames when Roland saw and started screaming, "Fire! Fire! Daddy, there's a fire!"

His innocent words caused a panic and suddenly half the guests were running for the hall exits, nearly trampling each other in their haste to get away.

The flames atop the cake went out, and Leroy remarked to Snow, "Well, that's one way to start the wedding night early!"

Bae just shook his head and then he started laughing. "I think we can all say this was a wedding to remember!"

"Only in Storybrooke, hon!" Emma giggled.

"With our crazy family!" Henry hooted, then thought about the new video he'd be making and posting on youtube.

**A/N: Next up the wedding night . . .and how did you like the vows spoken? **


	18. Ever After

**18**

**Ever After**

_The Cassidy's apartment:_

After making sure Henry was dropped off at Regina's for the night, where he was going to stay and teach Roland how to play Wizards and Warriors, and spend some time with the mayor and her new boyfriend, Emma and Bae were quick to go home and start having a wedding night to remember.

Emma went to get into something more comfortable after having Bae unzip the back of her dress, and as she pulled on some red lingerie Ruby had selected for her as a wedding present, she heard the sound of a hammer pounding something into the wall.

Puzzled, she stuck her head out of the bathroom and called, "Bae? What's that noise?"

"Don't worry, Em. I'm making sure we aren't disturbed," he answered from where he was kneeling on the floor in front of the bedroom door.

"Huh?" Her blue eyes widened as she saw just what her husband was doing. "Baelfire . . . are you _nailing_ the door shut?"

"Yup," he replied, industriously pounding another nail into the piece of wood across the bottom of the door. "I'm not taking any chances. After what happened when I proposed . . .I'm making sure there are _no_ interruptions."

"What . . . what if there's an emergency?" she sputtered. "I'm the sheriff!"

"So? That's what you have deputies for," he answered. "I've turned off your phone. Anything that comes up tonight . . . they can call your deputies or Regina. _You're_ unavailable."

He put another piece of wood across the top of the door and nailed it on.

"I don't believe this! What if there's a fire or something?"

He shrugged. "We can climb out the window."

"Using what? The sheets? We're on the second story!"

"Sheets'll work," he smirked. Then he set the hammer down. "There!" He pulled off his jacket and tossed it on the chair. He kicked off his Gucci loafers, a present from his father, and eyed his wife of a few hours happily. "I like what you're wearing, Mrs. Cassidy. It's very classy."

"I feel like one of those exotic dancers," Emma laughed nervously. She didn't know why the hell she was nervous, since it wasn't like this was her first time with Bae or anything.

"Feel free to dance for me, sweet thing," he purred, his brown eyes turning a shade almost like dark cognac. He seated himself on the end of the bed, a teasing provocative smirk on his face.

"I was kidding!" she protested.

"Were you?" he chuckled. "C'mere, wild swan." He beckoned her with a forefinger.

_I'm must have drunk too many toasts,_ Emma thought as she sashayed out of the bathroom. _I don't know how to . . .do anything like this . . ._

But she found that the air was suddenly charged with an electrical current, like chained lightning, and she threw her head back and brought her hands up to her shoulders and pulled them downward in a slow sensuous gesture.

Bae's mouth went dry.

Emma put her hands on her hips and twitched them, like she'd seen some waitress do at Hooters in Tallahassee once. She was sure she looked like an idiot, and her negligee was probably riding up her behind, but she made herself walk over to him with a sassy stride and put her red pompom slipper clad foot on his knee and lean on it and say, "See something you like, Mr. Cassidy?" with her most provocative grin. Then she batted her lashes like Scarlett O'Hara.

Bae put his hand on her leg, running his finger down it. "Honey, I like you anyway at all," he said, and then he let his gaze roam down her, undressing her with one smoldering glance.

Then, just when she felt she might burst into flame from the heat of his gaze, he reached out and grabbed her about the waist, pulling her onto his knee.

"I thought you wanted me to dance for you, Bae?" she queried impishly, her brilliant blue eyes glowing with love for the man she had just married.

"I . . . changed my mind. Now I want you to sit on my lap," he said huskily and stole a kiss.

Emma chuckled and began to undo his tie. Then she tossed it on top of his jacket and started undo his shirt, trailing kisses down him as she did so.

He sucked in a breath. "Emma, you little tease!"

She wriggled on his lap and he gasped. "What's the matter, lover boy?"

She shifted upon his lap, and he threw back his head and whimpered, and her mouth sought his, kissing her way down his neck, branding him with her desire. Her hands tangled in his hair as she pulled him forward, sharing the pleasure he aroused in her with him, kissing him as if there was no tomorrow.

His hands clasped her to him, slyly undoing the little clasp at the back of her nightie, his fingers as nimble and swift as they were when swiping something from a counter without being seen.

She shivered with ecstasy, and whispered, "What . . . do you think you're doing?"

"Sneaking a peek at my lovely wife," he answered, as he gently eased the silky nightie down.

"Hands off the merchandise, Cassidy," she mock-growled. "Unless you're gonna pay a forfeit."

"Like what?"

"You let me undress you," she returned, and she undid the rest of the buttons on his shirt, her touch making him ache with a need only she could assuage. She tugged the bottom of his shirt out of his pants, running her fingers around his waistband.

His eyes heating, he asked, "See anything you like, darlin'?"

She arched an eyebrow. "Lots . . . but then you already knew that . . ." She set her hands on the clasp of his pants.

He put a hand over the top of hers, murmuring, "You go there, my swan princess, and this little fantasy is going to turn wicked really fast."

"Oh yeah?" her sky blue eyes challenged.

"Yeah . . ." he growled throatily. "You do know what my name means, right?"

"Something to do with fire?"

He chuckled. "It means little bonfire, darlin' . . . and you take those off and you're going to start one sure enough . . ."

"What are you saying?" she demanded, removing his hand. "That I'm playing with fire?"

His smirk said it all.

She tossed her head. "Then it's a good thing you married a sorceress, hot stuff, because I can handle fire . . . all night and all day . . ."

And with that, she undid the fastener on his pants.

"Emma . . . you witch!"

She giggled, then shoved him backwards onto the bed, with her on top of him, her mouth teasing and caressing, making him gasp for breath as she reaffirmed her endless love for him with each kiss.

His fingers danced over her back, promising unending ecstasy, making her burn with his own brand of magical fire, worshipping her with his hands and his body, celebrating his love for her in blissful sweet fiery seduction.

Slowly, like weaving threads in a tapestry, he coaxed her to the heights of ecstasy, and she flew high above the earth, a being made of light and joy, a swan who danced upon fiery wings with her beloved mate, whom she had rescued from death's embrace, as Isis had Osiris, joining together in a fiery conflagration that swept them away to an undiscovered country where they found at last their heart's home in each other, two souls entwined in the eternal spiral dance of rebirth and renewal.

And above them was the white swan feather dreamcatcher, that shimmered in the moonlight from the partially opened window, its promised fulfilled, as the couple below created a new dream of hope and love from the ashes of a lifetime of loneliness and isolation.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

_Gold's Victorian:_

"Home at last!" Belle exclaimed as Rumple carried her across the threshold of his—no their—home. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him joyfully.

He chuckled wickedly and said, "Looks like someone's excited to start this wedding night, hmm?"

"I've been waiting for this since . . .I first saw you in my father's castle in those sexy leather pants," she admitted, her lips curving in a sweet smile.

"Really?" he asked, slightly skeptical. "You wanted the Dark One? I thought I repulsed innocent young maidens like you." He shoved the front door closed with his dress shoe.

Then he snapped his fingers together three times, raising the wards on his house to form an impenetrable bubble, for there was no way he was risking anyone interrupting him tonight.

"I might have been an innocent, but I was no demure milksop, Rumple!" she told him, her midnight blue eyes glowing with love for the man who held her so gently in his arms. "I craved adventure, I wanted to slay dragons, I wanted to be the heroine, not the helpless maid in the tower rescued by the handsome prince."

"And instead you made a deal with the beast to go with him forever. Hardly the stuff of dreams, dearie," Rumple said with a faint mocking tone, though the sarcasm was for himself, not for her.

"I've never regretted that, Rumple," she said, her tone serious.

"Not even when I threw you into my dungeon? Or yelled at you for disturbing my spinning with your sobbing?"

"Well . . . I might have been a little disconcerted . . . but you did let me out after three days . . . and you also gave me a pillow and a blanket, even though you said it was to muffle my crying so you could get back to work," she recalled.

He sighed regretfully. "I was starting to feel sorry for you . . . and regretting taking you from all you had known to be my companion . . .alone in my castle with only me for company . . .so I . . . snapped at you to remind myself that it was you who had agreed to our deal . . . and I really gave you that pillow to . . . comfort you, I just . . . didn't want you to know it."

"Oh, Rumple! I saw through you as soon as you conjured that up for me," she said candidly. "There was no need for that little gesture, you know. You had the power to just . . . silence me with magic, or set a spell around my cell to muffle my cries. Yet instead you came and gave me a pillow."

"What are you saying? That I didn't terrify you?"

"Maybe at first. You did have a dreadful reputation . . . but when you didn't skin me or whip me for breaking your teacup I knew there was more to you than met the eye. The imp had a heart beneath his golden scales, it was just hidden in the shadows."

"But you—you uncovered it," he whispered, setting her down at last.

"Love is a mystery to be uncovered," she grinned up at him. Her eyes perused him leisurely. "You know, I really love how you look in that suit . . ."

"Why thank you, sweetheart." He had always liked the way an Armani made him look.

She put a finger to her lips, thinking hard, then she said, "But you know . . . I think you were much sexier in your leather pants and gold shirt and red vest, Rumple."

His lips curved in that sweet sexy smirk she adored. "Really, dearie?"

She nodded, her face alight with mischief, like a little girl reading a forbidden book under the covers at midnight. "There's just something about you in those pants . . ." her cerulean eyes went smoky with longing.

"Then you don't think I look like some . . . wicked rock star?" he queried.

She giggled at him, tilting her head. "Rumple . . . if all rock stars looked like you did in those pants . . . they'd never get offstage without some crazed women fans ripping off their clothes . . ."

"Are you saying you wanted to rip my clothes off?" he asked slyly.

"I'm saying. . . the thought crossed my mind."

"Hmm . . ." he said maddeningly. "Fortunately for you . . . I happen to know a little magic . . ." then he waved a hand and his impeccable Armani suit became his skin tight leather pants, silk gold shirt, red brocade vest and lace-up leather boots. "Your wish is my command, my lovely bride."

"Stunning!"

"But . . . something's missing," he declared.

"What?"

"This," he snapped his fingers and suddenly the foyer was transformed into a facsimile of his ballroom in the Dark Castle. "And this."

Another twirl of his fingers and she was no longer wearing her wedding gown, but the gorgeous golden dress she had worn when they had first met.

"Oh! Rumple . . .!" she exclaimed, looking down at herself in delight.

"You know . . . I never did get to dance with you like I wanted after you returned to the castle from town that day . . ."

"I'm sorry I ever listened to Regina," she said regretfully. "I broke your trust that day."

"And I broke both our hearts . . . jackass that I was," he admitted. "But tonight isn't a night for regrets, my Belle . . . it's a night to begin anew." He bowed to her gracefully and held out a hand. "So . . . might I have this dance, my lady?"

An invisible orchestra began to play the soft strains of a waltz.

Belle placed her gloved hand in his. "You certainly may, Mr. Gold."

His lips grazed the back of her hand in a courtly old world gesture long dead in this modern era, and he murmured, "You honor this humble spinner, milady." Then his arm went about her waist and he swept her around lazily. His eyes glinting with wicked delight, he said, "You can tear off my clothes later, dearie."

Though it had been years since she had danced in a formal setting, Belle discovered that—like riding a horse—you never forgot how to dance. Her feet automatically recalled the steps, and she glided about the foyer with Rumple in a dance that had been considered scandalous back in her father's time . . .where the couples actually held one another close, in an embrace that left nothing to the imagination.

Rumple spun her about gracefully, his movements poised, powerful, and passionate—as finely tuned as a Stradevarius violin. No longer hampered by his crippled leg . . . or his wounded spirit . . . he danced as if he were Oberon himself, master of the revels, virile and sexy as hell in his leather pants.

Belle twirled away from Rumple for three heartbeats, connected to him by a single clasped hand, smiling at him seductively.

He winked at her, giving her a beckon with a finger, and she twirled lazily back into his arms.

He gave her a casual dip, then spun around, moving easily in the measured swan-like glide the dance called for, and he thrilled to the feel of his beloved in his arms, her heart beating in time with his own.

Belle curled an arm about his waist, loving the feel of his sinewy strength, and the way he held her, the tips of his fingers sending a scorching heat through her, his mouth curled in that devilish sexy smirk she loved.

Finally, the music ended with a flourish, and Belle clasped close in Rumple's arms, her heart in her eyes and her face aglow with love.

He smiled down at her, his brown eyes filled with an endless devotion, love transforming his face from ordinary to extraordinary, in a single heartbeat. "Not bad, huh, dearie?" he crooned.

Belle laughed. "Rumple, you're a romantic at heart."

"No!" he clasped a hand over his heart, pretending to look horrified. "You've found me out! Oh, dearie dearie dear!"

Then the room echoed with his giggle, reminiscent of the one he used to utter as the Dark One.

"Now that I've figured out your darkest secret . . . what's my prize?" she queried.

"Well, now . . .I believe I did promise you could rip off my clothes . . ." he purred, and then he clasped her close and transported them upstairs to their bedroom.

Where she proceeded to indulge herself in a very wicked yet romantic game, first unlacing his vest, her slender fingers undoing the ties . . . and not so incidentally her husband's resolve . . .and sending it with a flick of her wrist to land on the floor across the room.

She gave him a seductive grin as she put her hands on his shirt, tugging at it impatiently. It was open at the collar, but it had no buttons to undo like his dress shirt.

"Dammit!" she swore, frustrated.

His chest rumbled with mirth and he said, "Go ahead, sweetheart. Do it."

"Seriously?"

"Do you want to be here all night?"

In answer she took both sides of his shirt where it made a V at his collarbone and yanked them hard.

The silk shredded satisfyingly beneath her fingers and she slid the shirt off in slow increments, almost like a snake shedding its skin.

The gold silk puddle on the floor by their feet as she ran her hands all down his chest, delighting in the sleek feel of him.

He nearly self-combusted right there.

Then she was kissing him, one deep passionate kiss that gave to him all that she was . . . and all that she wished to be . . . and as her hands tangled in his silky hair, he kissed her back, uninhibited, allowing himself to indulge in a fierce wild passion, without fear he would harm her, his brilliant beautiful rose, who had brought hope and light into his shadowed existence.

He trailed kisses down her throat in lazy spirals, making her burn with a fire only he could conjure.

As he did so, she managed to toe off one of her heels . . .then she became distracted by what his mouth was doing.

He picked up her leg, the one with the shoe still on it, and tugged her close, wrapping her foot about his waist while moving his leather-clad lower body against her in a rhythm as old as time itself.

She moved her hand down and cupped his bottom, pinching it teasingly. "My sexy ass beast!"

"Glad you think so," he smirked, twitching it provocatively.

He laughed, dark and sexy, and then did a long slow shimmy . . .

. . . and the leathers slid down him in a soft shushing of black scales . . .

. . . like a dragon sloughing off his old skin . . .

"How . . . are you doing that?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"Magic, of course," he smirked, wriggling his fingers.

Then his boots vanished in purple smoke . . .until he was skyclad before her.

"Wish granted," he announced. "And now . .. it's my turn."

"You're going to tear off my dress?" she asked, somewhat dismayed.

"No, sweetheart . . .to ruin such beautiful fabric would be a crime . . .and besides . . . I'm too impatient . . ."

Then he waved a hand and the dress vanished in purple smoke.

"Much better, dearie," he said, and then he dimmed the lights with a gesture, until the room was lit only by dozens of magical floating candles that scented the air with orange blossoms and white tea.

The bed was soft, inviting, and they fell upon it, indulging some more in some shameless teasing before finally consummating their love. Together, they discovered a place beyond words and dreams, a place of gold and green, where joy and passion met and became one glorious being, reborn in the fires of love. And there they gave to each other a gift beyond price—the greatest gift of all—themselves, rewriting the ending of a tale as old as time.


	19. Hot Stuff

**19**

**Hot Stuff**

When Rumple and Belle awoke the next morning, both were extremely satisfied with how their wedding night had gone and content to just lie there in each other's arms for several long minutes, relishing the fact that they had nowhere to go and nothing pressing to do today. Rumple considered being totally lazy and lolling about in bed all day . . . and from Belle's knowing cerulean glance, he knew she considered it as well.

However, as satisfying as another playful romp between the sheets would be, Rumple knew he would have all day to be with his new bride . . . and he wanted a chance to do some other things with her that he had meant to do but had never gotten around to . . . because he'd been too busy with work, or chasing his demons out of his head, or planning the wedding. But now . . . now he had time to indulge himself in all these simple little things . . .and lovemaking, while sweet, was not the be all and end all of their existence.

So after indulging himself in some playful kisses and tickling Belle's foot, whereupon she retaliated by tickling his tummy, one of his oddly sensitive and ticklish spots, making him giggle worse than Tickle Me Elmo, he captured her sneaky hand and turning it palm up, kissed it and said, "So, my dearest wife, let's go for a walk on the beach this morning."

Belle cocked her head, her hair falling enchantingly over one eye, and said, "You know . . . I always wanted to do that . . .and I always kept putting it off till later . . ."

He smirked. "Well, dearie, later is here."

"Then I'll need to get dressed," she remarked.

"Unfortunately, yes. Because while I like you just the way you are, I don't want you to cause men to have heart attacks when you walk down the street," he teased.

"And I don't want you to lose your temper and turn someone into a toad . . . or a puddle of green goo . . .or something equally revolting because they're staring at me," she replied.

"And that would be a distinct possibility," he allowed.

"Let me go and jump in the shower," she murmured, rising reluctantly from her comfortable nest.

"Hmmm . . ." he arched an eyebrow speculatively. "Maybe I'll join you."

"Rumple!" she scolded playfully. "You do that and we'll never get to go anywhere."

He made a mournful face. "I hate it when you make sense."

She laughed. "Better get used to that." Then she walked into the bathroom, feeling Rumple's eyes following her, and flushed all the way down to her feet, for a part of her was still somewhat shy despite what they had shared last night.

"Never mind, dearie," he called after her. "We can indulge ourselves later . . ."

Then he rose too and went to take a shower in the bathroom across the hall.

It was only afterwards that he realized he should have grabbed some clothes before going in there. Irritated with his oversight, he summoned the clothing he'd been wearing last night, which were his leather pants and brocade vest. His gold silk shirt had been ripped off him, so he summoned a red one instead and changed the vest to a gold brocade. Then he magicked his lace-up boots on, for they were comfortably broken in and he liked how they looked with his leather pants.

He finger combed his wet hair, adopting a rather flyaway damp look, and quickly shaved before going back into his room and calling, "Belle, are you ready?"

"Almost," she answered, she was putting up her dark auburn hair in a scrunchy. She had decided to wear a cute midnight blue skirt and blouse ensemble, which showed off her well turned legs and trim waist. She also wore slender small-heeled flats of silver leather, because she couldn't walk in heels on the beach and didn't like feeling sand in her shoes.

She stared at the wedding ring on her hand and whistled happily as she emerged from the bathroom . . . and felt her mouth go dry as she beheld her husband in his sexy outfit.

His mouth quirked up in a roguish grin. "I like your new outfit, Belle."

"And I like yours, Rumple," she laughed, fluttering her eyelashes at him naughtily.

"Ah ah!" he waggled a finger at her. "None of that . . .or else the only place we're going, sweetheart, is back to bed."

"Are you saying I'm . . . irresistible?" she queried.

"Not telling!" he replied impishly.

"You're impossible, Rumplestiltskin!"

"But you love me for it, dearie," he chuckled, and then he gestured towards the door. "Ladies first."

"Why thank you, Mr. Gold!" she said in her best Southern belle coquette imitation. Then she walked past him and pinched his butt.

He pretended to be offended, saying in a high falsetto, "Really, Mrs. Gold! What happened to behaving like a lady?"

She turned and looked back over her shoulder. "Bad girls have more fun!" she shot back, then sashayed out of the room. "Besides, you asked for it—wearing those!"

"I what? That's the worst excuse I've ever heard!"

"So sue me!"

"No thanks, dearie. I'd much prefer to kiss you," he laughed softly.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

In another part of town, another set of newlyweds was slowly waking, drifting from dreamland into a hazy state somewhere between asleep and awake. Emma opened her eyes, blinking to clear the sleep from them.

Beside her, Bae slept with his hand under his pillow, still wandering through dreamland. Emma would have rejoined him, but all the champagne she'd drunk last night was making itself felt and she rose to use the bathroom . . . only to realize that she couldn't open the bedroom door.

"Crap!" she swore. Then she went to shake awake her husband. "Hey, Cassidy! Wake up . . . you need to perform a husband's duty."

Bae opened his eyes. "Then come back to bed, hon."

She rolled her eyes. "You aren't doing that until you open the damn door you nailed shut last night!"

"Aww, Em . . ."

"Because if you don't you're gonna need a mop as well as a hammer . . . and then you're gonna need a lawyer," she mock-growled.

"Funny, Emma," he grumbled, then rose and went to look for the hammer. Last night it had seemed like such a good idea . . .

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

Belle took Rumple's hand and they strolled along the beach, enjoying the sun and serenity, their boots and shoes crunching through the sand. Belle paused to feed the gulls some pieces of stale bread, and Rumple wrote their names in the sand with his toe while she fed the noisy avians.

Afterward they continued down the beach, with Gold spying a rare golden scallop shell buried half in the sand. He gently knelt and freed it from its sandy bed, brushed it off and presented it to his wife. "Look! Buried treasure!"

She giggled and took the shell. "You'll never make a pirate, Rumple!"

"Thank God!" he coughed. They walked down some more, until Belle felt her tummy rumble and asked, "How about some breakfast?"

"At Granny's?" he asked.

"Sure, why not?" she agreed.

He took her arm and they turned and walked up the beach and down the sidewalk.

Now Rumple and Belle seemed to have forgotten one thing as they walked along, but as the former imp passed people along the street, it was clear that others had not . . . or they were just noticing him for the first time because of his leather pants.

Belle started to talk to him about something funny Emma had said at the reception and so missed the first few whose eyes were drawn irresistibly to Rumple's sexy backside.

"Oh . . . my . . . God, Becky! Will you _look_ at his butt!" one of them drooled.

"Goodness, he's married!"

"Ooh, will you look at his . . . his _pants?"_

"So? There's no law that says you can't look."

"I _am_ looking!" sighed a girl. "And wishing I was Mrs. Gold!"

"Hey!" her boyfriend nudged her. "You've never looked at me that way!"

His girlfriend snorted. "Then maybe you ought to get yourself some pants!"

Rumple glanced back, having the distinct feeling he was being . . . ogled.

The women suddenly recalled they had to do something important and pretended to look elsewhere . . . then snuck peeks behind their hands.

"Now I understand what Belle sees in him!" whispered one tall brunette to her companion, watching as the leather pulled taut as he walked.

"Oh what a beautiful morning . . .!" yodeled Marco as he adjusted a sign outside a storefront.

Belle waved at him. "Hello, Marco!"

"Buon giorno!" he called back and glanced down at the couple. "Mamma mia!" He nearly fell off the ladder when he caught sight of Mr. Gold . . . wearing those leather pants.

"Belle," Rumple said softly as they approached the diner. "Does it feel like we're being . . . stared at this morning?"

Belle hid a smirk. "Umm . . . no . . .it's just . . . we're newlyweds and maybe you feel a little . . . self-conscious?"

"I do not!" he muttered, and unconsciously put a bit of a strut into his stride.

Aurora was coming out of Clark's Pharmacy and dropped her purse when she saw Rumple go by. "Mr. Gold . . .?" she gasped. "Oh _my_ . . .I think I'm dreaming!"

Most of the citizens of Storybrooke had some dealings with Rumplestiltskin at one time or another . . . but they had forgotten what the golden-skinned imp looked like thirty years ago, especially after growing used to seeing impeccably dressed Mr. Gold with his gold topped cane walking the streets. Gold garnered some glances in an Armani, but it was nothing compared to the second glances and rubbernecking he got now.

The happy couple entered the diner, animatedly discussing what they were going to order for breakfast. They walked over to their usual table.

Ashley was turning around with a tray of dirty dishes as Rumple walked by . . .and she quite forgot what she was doing and tilted the tray and everything ended up on the floor. "Whoops!" she giggled, and knelt down to pick up the crockery . . . and not so incidentally get a better look.

Ruby hurried over with an empty coffee pot. "You okay, girl?"

"Uh . . . fine . . . I just got distracted . . ." Ashley murmured.

"By who?" Ruby frowned. "Belle and Rumple come in here all the time—oh!" she looked and saw what Rumple was wearing. She began to fan herself.

"Why'd I never notice that before?" muttered Ashley.

"What are you two twittering about?" asked Granny. "You've got tables waiting!"

"Leather pants," Ruby said dreamily, and then she turned Granny to watch as Rumple led Belle to their booth by the window. "I think I'm getting a hot flash . . . he's hot stuff!"

Granny's eyes went wide. "I think I need to open a window . . . the temperature in here just jumped to over a hundred degrees! I'd forgotten about those!"

"I don't know how," Ruby licked her lips.

"Get your mind out of the gutter," hissed Granny, elbowing her.

"After looking at _that_? It's permanently entrenched there!" she argued, heaving a sigh. "Belle's sooo lucky!" Then she grabbed a full pot of coffee and went to do refills.

Hook was sitting in a booth nursing a cup of coffee with a splash of rum in it and noted all the admiring glances Rumple was getting. "Dammit . . . why don't _I_ get looks like that in my leather?" he grumbled as Ruby topped him off. "Must be some kind of magic thing."

"Nope," the waitress giggled. "It's a Stiltskin thing! Eat your heart out, Captain!"

Emma kicked Bae under the table as she looked up and saw her father-in-law. Her eyebrows shot into her hair. "Uh . . . good morning Belle . . . Rumple!" _Damn, who knew he could look like that in leather!_

Bae turned to see what had Emma looking so startled. "Morning, Papa!" he greeted his father.

"Hello, Bae, Emma," Rumple said. Smirking mischievously, he said, "I trust there were no . . . interruptions last night?"

"Nope . . . not after he nailed shut the door!" Emma snorted.

Belle started giggling. "He what?"

"He took my advice, dearie," Rumple returned, and he winked at his son.

"I should have known!" Emma groaned.

"Hey, whatever works!" her husband replied.

Ruby came over to the table. "And what can I get you two lovebirds this morning?" she cooed.

"Our usual," Belle said. "Coffee, a Florentine omelet, with very crispy home fries and crispy bacon."

"And I'll have eggs over easy, extra crispy home fries, bacon, and rye toast," Rumple recited.

"Uh huh!" Ruby said, then added, unable to resist, "Anybody ever tell you you're easy on the eyes, Mr. Gold?"

"Excuse me?" Gold sputtered.

"I do . . . all the time!" Belle replied.

Emma started laughing hysterically. "It's those pants! Bae, you need to borrow some of those!"

Bae looked at them and muttered, "I don't think he has an extra set of them . . . he probably magicked them up or something . . ."

Emma's face fell. Then she brightened, recalling something. She sipped her coffee, a wicked gleam in her eyes.

The couples ate their breakfast companionably, chatting about how they were going to spend the day with their new spouses, talking about picnics in the park and strawberries and champagne by the fire.

"Or snuggled up under a blanket feeding each other Pop Tarts," Bae suggested, chuckling.

"Whatever floats your boat, Baelfire!" Belle said saucily.

"Speaking of boats, maybe we could go on another fishing trip, Papa? This time with the whole family?" his son asked.

"That would be nice," Gold mused. "Maybe we could make it a family vacation and stay at the cabin too for the week. Just us two and Henry, since Snow and David will be too busy with their little prince and Regina would probably like some time alone with a certain outlaw."

"I think that sounds like a great idea," Emma said. "We could all use some family time. I'll check my schedule and let you know when I can take some time off."

"And I'm going to speak with Archie about going into a kind of partnership with him counseling kids here," Bae announced. "Since that's what I used to do back in Manhattan. I can apply for my license here and take the last of my certification exams while I wait for it to be processed."

"That's wonderful, Bae. I'm sure you'll make a great councilor," Belle said proudly.

"Me too. He can charm the birds out of the trees when he wants to," Emma said. "Among other things."

"Like father, like son," Belle remarked, and they all laughed.

After paying for their breakfasts, both couples went to exit the diner, and Emma waved a hand and concentrated hard.

Baelfire's jeans suddenly vanished to be replaced by an identical set of leather pants.

Grinning broadly, Emma Cassidy tucked her arm into her husband's and walked out the door, followed a moment later by her in-laws.

"Aww!" groaned all the women in the diner, and the men sighed and wondered what establishment in town sold leather pants.

Hook sulked, thinking now he needed to go shop for a new outfit. "Damn crocodile!"

"Okay, girls, the show's over! Now get back to work!" Granny ordered, then she fanned herself when no one was watching and muttered, "Spicy!"

**A/N: okay . . . so who agrees with that?**


	20. Rumple's Deal

**20**

**Rumple's Deal**

Three weeks after the weddings, Emma finally called Rumple on his cell and told him that a good time to spend a week at the cabin would be the Sunday coming up on the calendar. Henry would be out of school and she had put in for some vacation time, making sure her deputies would be able to cover the time she'd be gone. In the three weeks following the wedding, Bae had completed his certification for his masters, which he had started in New York, and was taking several courses online in order to finish his degree and at the same time working four days a week with Archie. But he was able to take time off also that coming week, so they would be able to go to the cabin and have a family vacation.

As Rumple had predicted, Snow and David were very busy with their newborn son, Gavin, who seemed to have his days and nights mixed up, and slept in snatches, like a kitten. Regina was also busy with some upcoming project she was working on with Robin, and so did not mind that Henry would be going to the cabin with his parents and grandparents.

One of the side effects of the gods' almost Apocalypse in Storybrooke was an increased amount of pollen in the air and sudden thunderstorms that cropped up without warning at times. Pollen coated everything—roofs, cars, patio furniture, porches in a golden hazy blanket. It also brought more than the usual outbreak of allergies, even in people who weren't prone to them.

One of those people was Mr. Gold. As the Dark One, he had not been susceptible to any kind of allergy, but since removing his curse, he became susceptible to certain things again, for he was no longer immortal. The Sunday they were due to leave for the cabin, Rumple woke with his eyes itching and his nose running. He sneezed his way through his morning cup of coffee, sniffling into a monogrammed handkerchief and wiping his streaming eyes with a cool cloth.

"Rumple, it seems like you've caught a cold," Belle mused as she eyed her husband, whose nose was turning slightly red from continuous wiping and blowing it.

"I . . . don't—achoo—catch colds!" the pawnbroker sniffled. "This is from—achoo—the pollen . . . I think . . ."

"Your poor thing! I think you have allergies," Belle said softly.

Her husband scowled over his coffee. "What I have, dearie, is an annoyance!" He dabbed his eyes again.

"Maybe you need some allergy medication?" Belle suggested. "Why don't I run over to Clark's and get some for you?"

"Please do. I'd go myself but . . ." he sneezed several more times.

She patted his arm. "You just stay here and drink your coffee and eat your bagel, Rumple. I'll be back in a little bit." Belle grabbed her purse off the table and headed out the door.

She returned in fifteen minutes with a blue box of allergy medication and Rumple took two pills, drank some water, and then went to lie down on the couch, as the pills made him drowsy.

Two hours later he woke up and said he was feeling better and was going to go into the shop for a few hours. "I'll be back around two, sweetheart, because that's when Emma and Bae will be coming over."

"Okay. In the meantime, I'll make sure we're all packed and everything." Belle said, kissing him goodbye.

It was slow at the shop, so Rumple had time to go through some inventory and found a few things he thought Henry might like and took them with him when he went home.

Since they would all be using his Cadillac to go up to the cabin, Rumple and Belle developed a system of packing everything in the trunk so there would be room for all their belongings. However, doing so made Belle get smudges of dirt from a set of barbecue tools on her dress.

But she only noticed them when they got inside and she was picking up a book off the recliner she had been reading. "Oh, darn it!" she sighed.

"What's wrong, dearie?" Rumple asked, feeling a little woozy. _Must be the medication I took._ He shook his head slightly.

"Look," she showed him the streaks on her favorite blue dress.

"Don't worry, I can fix it," he soothed, then called on his magic to do so.

But it was sluggish and unresponsive. Frowning, he gestured again . . .only instead of removing the stain on her dress, Belle's entire dress was removed!

"Rumple!" she gasped. "What game are you playing?" His wife stared down at her naked self.

"I'm not . . .I don't know why . . . but my magic's behaving oddly, I was only intending to remove the stain and instead . . . this happened." He allowed his gaze to roam over her. "Not that I'm complaining . . ."

"Rumple! Bae and Emma will be here any minute!" Belle reminded him, blushing.

"Oh . . . err . . .then you'd better get on upstairs," he coughed.

No sooner had the words left his mouth then the doorbell rang.

Belle and he looked at each other in horror.

She glanced around for something to cover herself, but they had packed the last afghan in the trunk to take with them.

A frantic Rumple spotted the silk and satin blue drapes at the window and he went and ripped them down. "Here! Quick! Cover yourself!" He flung the drapes around his wife.

Belle quickly wound them around herself. "Rumple! What do you think this is, a re-make of Gone With the Wind?" She couldn't help giggling a little.

"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn, now get . . ." he grabbed the trailing end of the drapes and tossed it over her shoulder and indicated she ought to hurry up the stairs.

The door bell rang again, and Emma's voice could be heard. "Maybe they're upstairs and can't hear the bell?"

Then Bae banged hard on the door. "Papa, we're here!"

"Uh . . . just a minute . . ." Gold called, and glanced up the stairs, where Belle was making as hasty an exit as she could bundled in the drapes.

"Grandpa, I need to use the bathroom!"

"Ahh . . .okay, hold your horses!" Rumple moaned and opened the door to let Henry and his parents in.

Henry scampered down the hall to the bathroom as Bae and Emma walked in.

"How come you took so long to answer the door?" asked his son. "Were you two busy or something?"

"Uh . . . you could say that," Gold hedged.

Emma glanced up the stairs and her jaw dropped. "Uh . . . Belle . . .what are you . . . wearing? Those look like . . .?"

Belle had just reached the top of the stairs and paused to grab the trailing end of the drapes when Emma happened to look up and see her. "Err . . .I saw them in the window and couldn't resist it," she blurted, trying frantically to cover.

Emma burst out laughing.

A blushing Belle ran down the hall to the bedroom.

Bae looked from Emma to his father, who also looked embarrassed and muttered. "Do I want to know? No . . .hell, no I don't!"

"It's not what you think—" Rumple began. "I tried to . . .remove a stain from her dress . . . my magic's been acting funny . . ."

"Yeah and that ain't the only thing," his son coughed. "Whatever, Papa." If his father and new stepmother wanted to indulge in some cute little fantasy things he wasn't going to say anything!

Next to him, Emma was still giggling. "Drapes . . .like Scarlett O'Hara . . .!" and cracking up.

"Mom, what's so funny?" Henry asked, staring at her.

" . . .Tara . . ." Emma wheezed.

"Huh?"

"You'll understand when you're older," Bae told him.

Henry gave him a _don't_-_insult-my-intelligence_ Look. "That means something happened that you don't want to tell me. So what happened?"

"Not telling," Bae and Rumple said at the same time.

"Oh, brother!" Henry rolled his eyes and resolved to see if he could worm it out of Emma once she got over her giggle fit.

"Here," his grandfather went and handed him a small plastic bag with some items from his shop he'd collected. "You might find these'll keep you busy at the cabin when things get too boring with us adults."

"Thanks!" Henry said, and opened the bag to find a sliding puzzle cube game, electronic hangman and other word games, a speed-gro rock crystal garden, and a copy of Rudyard Kipling's The Jungle Books.

"Hey, I read that," Bae said upon examining the book his son was holding. "I really liked it. But this is a nicer copy than the one I . . . err . .. borrowed from the library. Leather bound with gold leaf pages."

"Yeah it's really cool! And so's this," Henry showed Bae and Emma the crystal growing kit.

"Hey, I used to have one of those as a kid," Emma said. "Until one of the other kids in my foster home smashed it, the idiot."

"We can play this at the cabin, hon," Bae showed Emma the hangman game. "And I bet I can beat you."

"In your dreams, Cassidy," Emma snorted.

"Can too!"

"Can not!"

"Can too . .. I'll kick your butt!"

"Like hell, Baelfire!"

They faced off, glaring challengingly at each other.

"How old are you—twelve?" Rumple demanded, just as Henry said, "Hey, Mom, Dad—relax! It's just a game!"

"Uh . . . right . . ." Emma said, suddenly realizing what she'd been acting like.

"You know perfectly well how old I am, Papa," Bae objected.

"Then act your age," Rumple retorted, sneezing again.

"Allergies?" Emma asked sympathetically.

"Yes . . . I think so . . ." her father-in-law muttered.

"I told Rumple the pollen's really bad this year," Belle said, coming down dressed in a yellow and white sunburst patterned sundress. She had left the drapes upstairs.

"Yeah, well it would be given what happened here," Emma nodded. She slanted a glance at Belle. "You trying out for Scarlett, Belle?"

Belle blushed. "Err. . .well, you see . . ."

"We were going to have them cleaned . . . because of the dust . . . so we took them down," Rumple put in hastily. Then before any of his relatives could question him further, he said, "Is everyone ready to go?"

"I think so," Emma said.

"Okay, then let's make sure we have everything in my car. Belle, do you want to do the checklist of our things?" the Gold patriarch asked.

"A checklist?" Bae repeated in dismay. "You actually made a list?"

"Of course. How else can we make sure we have everything?" his stepmother replied.

"Belle's very organized," Rumple said proudly.

"I'll say," Emma sighed. "She makes me feel like I'm clueless."

"I'll go and get the bags from our car. Henry, come and help me," Bae ordered.

"Here's my keys," Gold tossed his son his car keys. "Put them in the trunk neatly, okay."

"Sure, Papa," Neal replied, then he said to Henry as they headed out the door, "Don't mind your grandpa. He's OCD and anal about stuff like that."

"Baelfire, I heard that!" snapped Rumple.

"Christ, he's got ears like a freaking fennec!" Bae sighed, and pulled Henry out the door.

**Page~*~*~*~Break**

They were underway in about ten minutes, after Gold had inspected the trunk and made sure everything was shipshape in it. He was driving, Belle was in the front seat next to him, and Emma, Henry, and Bae were in the back. Bae and Emma were playing electronic hangman and Henry was reading _The Jungle Books._

The cabin was about twenty-five minutes away by car, because you had to go around the toll bridge and the road didn't cut directly through the woods. Four minutes into the drive, it began to rain, one of the torrential downpours so common since the gods had nearly brought Armageddon to Storybrooke and messed with the weather patterns.

Gold had the windshield wipers going full force, and wished he dared use his magic, but with the way it had acted before, he didn't want to risk it. They could end up fifty miles away in the middle of the ocean or something. His head felt all foggy and stuffed up and he had a hard time seeing the road through the lashing wind and rain.

He blinked and drove slower, trying to see the road . . . and went over a large pothole with his left tire.

"Dammit!" he swore as the car slammed down into the hole.

As he gave it some gas to get out of the hole, he felt the car shake . . . and then the tire blew out.

"Whoa! Papa, did we run over a nail or something?" asked Bae as Gold slowly drove over to the side of the road, swearing a blue streak in his head.

"No, we hit a pothole . . . because somebody got lax maintaining the road!" Gold snarled. "And now I've got a flat . . . in a storm!"

"Rumple . . . do we need to call a tow truck?" asked Belle.

He sighed. "No . . . I can change it . . . and then we can go to the cabin and drop everyone off . . . and then I'll drive back to Hanson's garage and fix it."

"How come you can't just fix it with magic?" asked Henry.

"Because something's not quite right with my magic . . .ever since I woke up this morning with these blasted allergies," his grandfather replied grumpily. He eyed the lashing rain and said, "I'll wait for a bit before I try and get out and change this."

After about seven minutes, the rain lessened, and Gold decided he could try and change the tire. He put on his hazards and set the parking brake. As he went to get out, in his great coat and Armani suit, Bae said, "I can do it, Papa. You should just . . . err . . .wait here."

Gold eyed his son testily. "You ever change a tire, Bae?"

"Uh . . . yeah . . ." Bae answered, not bothering to elaborate that he'd had to in order to get away from some irate fence that was pursuing him. "Have you?"

Gold scowled. The truth was, he'd never had to . . . but he knew how to do it . . . it was part of the knowledge imparted by the Dark Curse. "I know how."

Bae raised an eyebrow. "Okay . . .everybody out," he called to the others.

Emma, Belle, and Henry all gathered under Belle's huge umbrella on the side of the road and watched as Bae and Rumple attempted to change the tire. Bae got the wrench, jack, and spare from the trunk, luckily they were right where they could be easily reached thanks to Rumple's packing job.

Bae insisted on getting on the ground to use the jack, claiming he was more able to do so in his jeans. "I've got this, Papa."

"What are you implying, Baelfire?" Gold snapped. "That I'm incapable? I can use both my legs now, in case you've forgotten!"

"Yeah, but _I'm_ not the one in a $1500 Armani suit," Bae pointed out. "You want to ruin it with axle grease?"

Rumple gritted his teeth. He hated to admit it, but his son was right. Armani suits were not suitable for mechanic work. "Okay. I'll watch from here."

"Good," Bae breathed a sigh of relief. He'd had visions of Rumple trying to jack up the car and the car falling on the smaller man . . . or Rumple tearing the knees out of his suit while doing so . . . or putting his back out trying to remove the lug nuts . . ._You always were good at grunt work, Baelfire,_ he reminded himself as he loosened the lug nuts and jacked up the car's left front end.

He unscrewed some of the lug nuts and was about to do the rest when his father said, "You're turning that one wrong."

"What do you mean, I'm turning it wrong?" Bae said shortly.

"You're turning it clockwise, boy. You need to do the opposite."

"I'm not . . . it's just stuck!" his son argued.

Gold put his hand to his forehead. "God help you, Bae, you're turning it clockwise!" He went to grab the wrench from his son. "Let me show you."

"Papa, I don't need you to give me lessons on how to—"

Rumple went and attacked the nut, unscrewing it in a matter of thirty seconds. "There! See? What'd I tell you?"

"The rain makes it hard to see," Bae muttered sulkily. "Here. I can do the rest."

Rumple handed the wrench back. "Next time don't act like I don't know what I'm doing."

"You're a lawyer, not a mechanic!" Bae sputtered, pulling off the flat and putting on the spare.

"But I'm a smart lawyer," Rumple pointed out. "Now . .. make sure you line everything up correctly."

"I know! I know!" Bae said exasperatedly, doing as Rumple instructed.

"And tighten the nuts gradually. . . . about 50% and then do the opposite one . . ."

Bae lifted his head and stared at his father. "What the hell, Papa, you memorize the damn manual or something?"

Rumple ducked his head slightly to avoid getting water in his eyes. "Never mind what I memorized. Your old man's not stupid. Do it like I told you, so the tire doesn't fall off."

Bae rolled his eyes. "I'm not the one who's never changed a tire! I know what I'm doing. What do you think this is—Gold's Mechanic Class 101?"

"And don't give me any backtalk, mister!"

"Mom, how many people does it take to change a tire?" Henry asked from under the umbrella.

"One . . . unless they happen to be your dad and grandpa," Emma sighed. "I should have brought the puzzle. If they keep arguing, we could be here all day."

Bae tightened the lug nuts the way Rumple had instructed and just as he had lowered the car to the ground and went to put everything back in the trunk, the wind gusted like crazy . . . and ripped the umbrella right out of Belle's hands.

"Oh no!" she cried, as the rain slammed into her and soaked her.

"I'll get it!" Henry cried, running after the flyaway umbrella.

The big black golf umbrella was blown half inside out and across the road, with Henry in hot pursuit.

"Henry! Get out of the road!" Emma yelled. She was also getting drenched.

"What in hell?" Bae looked up just in time to see his son run across the street after the umbrella.

"C'mere, you crazy little imp!" Rumple cried, and since he was the closest, lunged after his grandson and caught him by the collar. "Hold up there, boy! You want to get run over?"

"Hey! Grandpa, I need to get the umbrella!"

"What you need, young man, is a good smack upside the head," Gold scolded, dragging the would-be hero back to the side of the road. "Have you lost your _mind_? You don't rush out into the middle of the road after an _umbrella_! You'll become road kill."

"Aww . . . now we lost the umbrella!" his grandson sulked, his hair plastered to his head by the rain.

"Umbrellas can be replaced. _You_ can't," Rumple pointed out. "Okay, you can all get back in the car."

Everyone was now soaked from the torrential rain, but they all sought shelter in the car. Gold turned on the heat full blast and Emma managed to cast a spell to dry them all out . . . mostly . . . until Rumple reached the cabin.

And by that time the rain had stopped and the sun was shining.

"Crazy damn weather!" Rumple muttered balefully.

But at least they were safe and sound.

**Page~*~*~*~*~Break**

Rumple decided to wait until tomorrow morning to bring the car back, and they all concentrated on unpacking the car and moving into the cabin, which was not as small as it seemed. There were two bedrooms and a pull out sofa where Henry said he would sleep, a fully stocked kitchen, two bathrooms, a large den, and a screened in back porch.

While everyone unpacked, Rumple thawed some hamburgers and hotdogs in the microwave and baked onion rings, fries, and made a salad. He noticed that though his eyes seemed a little itchy, he didn't feel quite so stuffed up as before . . . though he worked with a box of tissues nearby just in case.

"What are we eating for dinner?" Henry asked as he came into the kitchen.

"Hamburgers, hot dogs, salad, fries and onion rings," Rumple gestured to what he was preparing.

"Can I help?"

"Yes. Set the table, please. You'll find everything you need in that cabinet," he indicated the second cabinet to the right of the stove. "And the pantry and drawer below."

Henry did so, finding plates and glasses in the top cabinet, and silverware in the drawer. Napkins were in the pantry.

"What do we have to drink?"

"There's iced tea mix in the pantry, we can make that for now. I can brew a batch of real sun tea tomorrow, and we brought fresh lemons from home," his grandfather said.

Henry took the Lipton iced tea mix and measured some of it into a pitcher, filled it with water and stirred. He also cut up a lemon and put it into the glasses along with some ice from the ice maker. Then he found condiments in the fridge and pulled out ketchup, mustard, relish, barbeque sauce, and Sabrett Onions n'Sauce. He placed them in the middle of the table.

By then Belle had come down and started cutting up some tomatoes, lettuce, and placed pickles on the table as well. Then she toasted some buns and put them on the counter next to Rumple. Her husband tied on a green apron that said _Mr. Good Looking is Cooking_ then went out to grill the hamburgers and hot dogs.

Before he thought better of it, Rumple waved a hand at the grill and fire surged from it. "Huh. Looks like my magic's working again," he mused. He couldn't figure out what had been the matter before, but he didn't have time to analyze it now.

As he placed the hamburgers and hot dogs on the grill, he turned and saw Henry at his elbow. "Can I help you with something?"

"Uh . . .you're not still mad at me for chasing after the umbrella, are you?" his grandson asked, a worried frown creasing his face.

Rumple shut the lid on the grill and turned to look at the boy, his face serious. "Henry, I wasn't angry at you for chasing after the umbrella. You damn near gave me a heart attack running in the street like that. _That's_ what I was angry over—you risking your life, understand?"

"I was just . . . trying to help. To be brave . . . like a hero."

Rumple's mouth twitched. "You remind me a lot of your papa, son. He used to do similar things when he was a boy."

"Like what?" Henry's face was alive with curiosity.

"He'd probably skin me for telling you this but . . . once he tried to ride the neighbor's black ram," Rumple chuckled. "Some kids had been teasing him and he thought he could prove he was brave by riding this mean old sheep . . . so he did . . . for all of eleven seconds before the ram pitched him into a mud puddle and almost trampled him. He came home limping and covered in mud and then had the nerve to tell me he just fell down . . ."

Henry giggled. "What did you do?"

"Well . . . I could tell he wasn't telling me the whole truth . . .so I told him to take a bath and then I went to rinse out his clothes and found some black wool on his trousers. So then I went back inside and asked if he had anything else he wanted to tell me."

"Did he?"

"He did . . . because he thought I knew everything he'd been up to, when the fact was I only knew he'd been knocked down by a black sheep. He told me everything . . . and I almost had a heart attack once I found out what he'd been doing. If he hadn't been so bruised, I'd have turned him over my knee for being so foolish. But instead I made him sit inside the cottage for three days and card and clean wool for me and mend socks. And I told him much the same thing I told you—that he was more important to me than anything . . . and bravery was worth nothing if you killed yourself trying to impress some idiot who couldn't even tie their shoelaces right."

"How old was he?" asked Henry, laughing.

"Around nine, I think," Rumple said, turning over the burgers and hot dogs.

"Did my dad get in trouble a lot?" Henry queried.

"His fair share, yes, like any other kid," Rumple remarked. "Mostly when he was small, though, because he was insatiably curious and I couldn't always move fast enough to stop him from touching things. When he was small I called him Sticky Fingers." The pawnbroker laughed. "Little did I know that would turn out to be prophetic."

Rumple turned the hot dogs again and put the burgers on a platter that he heated with magic to keep warm.

"Grandpa . . . can you tell me more stories about my dad when he was a kid?"

"Tell you what . . .I'll tell you a story a night while we're here, so long as you promise me you won't ever do anything like you just did today again. Do we have a deal, dearie?"

Henry nodded. "Deal, Grandpa!" He held out his hand.

Rumple took it. "You've heard the first tale tonight. Now let's go and eat, shall we?" he asked, removing the hot dogs from the grill and then making the fire go out_. _

Henry smiled and followed the old sorcerer inside, thinking that despite the rocky start, this vacation was going to be the best one ever.

**A/N: So what part did you think was the best in this chapter? And what's causing Rumple's magic to go cr**azy? **Who thinks Henry won't be able to keep his deal?**


End file.
